The Bloody Lion and the Snarky Snake
by ForeverJynxed
Summary: Harry has a run-in with a fanged foe in Knockturn Alley and is changed for forever. Outvoted by the Hogwarts staff, Snape becomes his keeper. Can it last? And what happens when Harry settles into his new life a tad too well? HP/SS Slash Vamp
1. Bloody Students

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own or even claim to EVER own anything related to Harry Potter or its affiliates. It all belongs to Jo Rowling and the rights are still the sole property of WB and Scholastic and whatever other companies are in charge of distributing HP books, movies and whatnot. I am only a simple fangirl who had an idea and felt the need to write it down and share it with other fangirls who are of similarly-minded types.**

**Oh, and, in case that one didn't get the gist across: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING! Only the laptop on which this was written and a slight case of insomnia. XD**

**Warnings: This is, in fact, a SNARRY, and as such will feature slash and its accompanying factors, so, to put it simply: No likey, no readey! :D**

* * *

><p>The Bloody Lion and the Snarky Snake<p>

Chapter 1: Bloody Students

_Bloody students,_ Severus Snape thought as he stalked through Knockturn Alley of all godforsaken places.

Snape, ever vigilant, had been awoken in the dead of night by an alarm. More specifically, one of the alarms placed at the entrances to all secret passageways leading to Hogsmeade. Not only was a student out of bed, they were out of the school.

_Minerva though the alarms meant I was paranoid. This'll show her._ He snarled, quickly turning around a corner, _A student out of bed, not only out of bed but out of the school. And Apparating to this of all places._ He'd followed the edge of a black, Hogwarts student's cloak and Apparation trail through Hogsmeade, into Diagon Alley, and now here, the bloody seedy underbelly of the Wizarding World._ Blast it all._

It had all started several weeks prior. It was the beginning of the first new term at Hogwarts since the war. Snape still found himself wondering what diety's sick sense of humor led to his surviving that night in the Shrieking Shack just to be sent back to teach. If it weren't for the rather vivid scar on his neck he would have thought he must have dreamt it. Anyway, since the start of term, the castle had been much fuller than expected due to the former years' seventh years returning to retake- or as in the case of the bloody "Golden Trio," take for the first time- their seventh year due to the NEWTS being cancelled… and their having a couple of crazed, sadistic teachers the year prior.

Personally, Snape was under the impression that a truant Wizard should have been set upon the Gryffindor three to adjust their seeming general disregard for the necessity of school. War or no, who are they to think that gallivanting across the globe for months is more important than their education. Saviors. Bah. More like responsibility shirkers. Fame has its perks, it seemed, for the so-called "Saviors of the World." Or, as the Daily Prophet headline for May 2nd read: "Wizarding World Saved Single-Handedly by Harry Potter (and co.)" Single-bloody-handedly they said. As if the Order, faculty, Aurors and even the students hadn't been fighting as well…

This year, however, a student, at least once weekly, had been sneaking out of school. It had started as Snape just catching the hem of their robes wandering around the castle at night, and had escalated to him chasing them as far as Hogsmeade before losing their trail.

He ducked underneath a sign depicting some sort of sale on something that looked dangerously like the limbs of a small human. He made a mental note to return to that particular corner at some point and pull out his best intimidation for whatever bastard was selling baby parts. He shuddered.  
>He knew it had to be a Seventh Year, as they were the only ones legally allowed to Apparate. Also the only ones skilled enough to skulk around the castle without getting lost. And without being caught. At least, that's what they thought. <em>Didn't count on my finding you, did you, you delinquent?<em> Snape thought to himself with a smirk.

Granted, he'd caught a break that night. The ne'er-do-well hadn't Apparated as soon as they'd planned, leaving Snape with enough time to track them. Though, he hadn't planned on wandering Knocktun Alley- at night!- when he'd followed. He almost glowed with glee at the prospect of expulsions, detentions and otherwise horrible thing's he'd get to finally do to the student who dared to think they could outsmart Severus Tobias Snape!

Though, to be perfectly honest, Snape had indeed lost their trail at a point fifteen minutes beforehand. He was determined that he could and would find them once more. All of those years as a spy ingrained far more than a few useful skills into him._ Not to mention, I'm on the list of most powerful wizards alive, what with the deaths of the Dark Lord and Dumble- No, and Albus. Toward the TOP of the list as well, despite what Skeeter wants to admit. Hell, I'd BE the top of the list if it weren't for that green-eyed menace. "Most Powerful Wizard of the New Century" my arse!_ Snape dodged past a hag, ignoring the repulsive leer she sent him._ So he killed the Dark Lord? Riddle and Albus had done all of the work. The brat just shouted "Expelliarmus!" and all went well. Just luck. All Potter's always been is luck. Luck and others dying for him. Or just dying-_

Snape caught himself as he slipped on suddenly wet cobblestone, the slick substance splashing and coating his shoe. He had walked into a puddle of something. Upon further inspection, and a wordless Lumos to light the dingy alleyway, he realized he landed in what could only have been a puddle of blood. Snape sighed. Some poor sod seemed to have found out the hard way what makes Knockturn Alley so dangerous.

He took a deep breath and, wand leading the way, stepped around the corner to the epicenter of the puddle and stopped, horrified.  
>Good news: he had found the student. Bad news: Harry Potter lay soaked in a puddle of his own blood, green eyes staring upwards, pleadingly, left hand futilely trying to stop the blood gushing from the open bite mark in his neck.<p>

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTE AFTER THE EDIT: For those of you with this on alert, and this is being reposted because I finally got around to rereading it and found quite the large amount of mistakes in it. xD Haha. Trying to fix this story, making it a tad... better. I suddenly found myself unhappy with what I had put and thought those reading deserved a more well put together story.<p>

AN: So, this makes story two! XD

I don't know what it is with things I write having the first chapter end with Snape finding Harry in precarious positions, but man… Haha. I just realized it happens an awful lot.

I hope you like it. Reviews would be appreciated, but they are not mandatory. :D (Though, you do receive an e-cookie along with some e-milk to dip it in every time you leave, just sayin'. Some may even get soy or almond milk if they so choose to. ;D )

The usual warning: Flames will be openly mocked. I do enjoy constructive criticism and whatever random tidbits you would like to point out or add in or whatnot. :)

Yay!

-ForeverJynxed


	2. A Run In With a Pair of Canines

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own or even claim to EVER own anything related to Harry Potter or its affiliates. It all belongs to Jo Rowling and the rights are still the sole property of WB and Scholastic and whatever other companies are in charge of distributing HP books, movies and whatnot. I am only a simple fangirl who had an idea and felt the need to write it down and share it with other fangirls who are of similarly-minded types.**

**Oh, and, in case that one didn't get the gist across: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING! Only the laptop on which this was written and a slight case of insomnia. XD**

The Bloody Lion and the Snarky Snake

Chapter 2: A Run-In With a Pair of Canines

Shit.

One thing Severus Snape knew for certain: when he began his search for a hooligan, he never thought it would land him here.

It had merely been something new to accomplish. Something lose himself in, the pursuit, the hunt.

Snape just wanted to go back to the old days. Back when he had nothing worse to worry about at night than foolish Gryffindors, conniving Slytherins, and easily-frightened Hufflepuffs playing tonsil-hockey in empty broom cupboards. Back before the Dark Lord decided to return from the dead force Snape to resume his role as a spy. Before he agreed against his will to murder his only friend… Back when life was simple_… What the hell was I thinking_, thought Snape, mentally berating himself, _I should have known my luck wouldn't hold out for much longer. It never did. Never bloody does._

_No pun intended._

Snape couldn't take his eyes off of the scene before him. "Shit," he finally managed to whisper. _How eloquently put_, he thought, not able to muster the energy for an eye-roll.

There they were, alone in the alleyway. Potter's blood tainted the edge of the Professor's black robes as he stepped, cautiously, forward.

_Those green eyes, so like his mother's… _They were the only thing the boy was able to move. Their eyes met and in one instant the messy-haired teenager looked far beyond his years yet younger than ever.

Potter's eyes bulged, piercing through Snape, talking voicelessly as they tried to convey what his throat, merely gurgling, was unable.

Two things happened simultaneously. One was the light in Potter's eyes dimming, one last breathe of a silent plea, for what, Snape didn't really understand. The other was a sound from the left side of the alleyway, the clinking of glass, scuffling of shoes and a sharp, snarling breath.

Then Snape understood what Potter tried to tell him. It was coming back.

If Potter survived this, he made a mental note to berate him about is obvious lack of self-preservation or survival skills. If only because they always seemed to drag Snape into the mess.

Snape, wand raised high, ready to hex whatever walked around that corner, stood, waiting for the figure to show itself. From years of this same operation, never wanting to be taken by surprise, Snape's muscles went straight into a tensed, prepared state. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears, the exhilaration of having an unknown enemy again. He would have thanked Potter for providing this particular experience, but since he was currently out of commission, he figured it could wait.

Saving Potter again. It was like an intense, never-ending state of déjà vu for the potions master. Ever the hero, never admitting it.

Well, at least not until Potter spilled Snape's entire life story in front of the remainder of the Hogwarts staff, most of the students, and every Auror working at the Ministry. Potter insisted it was only the necessary parts but Snape doubted it.

A shadow passed across the corner in front of him. He smiled, that malicious smile he usually reserved for Potter's utter disasters of potions assignments. Or just whenever the scarheadded brat opened his mouth.

Savior of the Wizarding World be damned, he was still a stubborn prat.

A prat who was dying barely a yard from where Snape was standing.

First the tip of a cloak, then a shoe, the rest of the cloak, two arms, one of which was holding what Snape recognized as empty potion vials, and finally, the face of the monster that had the audacity to prey upon a Hogwarts student.

Snape tried to send the part of him that was still "Hogwarts Headmaster" back into the basement of his mind so he could focus, but the damn thing kept finagling its way back into the foreground.

Sometimes he wondered if Albus had made him a horcrux. It certainly felt like the barmy old man was inside his head sometimes.

The cloaked man, skin pasty white, hair dark, lank, a shorter version of Snape's own hair, though he would never admit it, liking his own hair (thank you very much), his eyes, confused at first, searching, then, finding Snape, glaring, dead, soulless, into Snape's own. His nostrils flared as he sniffed the air, eyes darting to Potter for a moment, it was his turn to smile, he had found his prey. It matched Snape's own malicious grin in every way but one: his fangs made it far more cruel.

The vampire inclined his head ever so slightly, smile widening ever further at taking in Snape's appearance. "Hmm," it came out as a purr, "you look like one of mine yet," he chuckled darkly, nostrils flaring again, smelling Snape, taking in the alleyway, "you don't smell it." Its voice was deep, rough and definitely not the stereotypical Transylvanian accented, eloquent speech that Muggles tend to equate with vampires. This was just some poor bastard who had once found himself on the wrong end of a pair of fangs.

The fangs gleamed in the torchlight of the alleyway as it continued speaking. "You appear to be between me and enough blood to feed me and mine for a week. What can I do to fix that?" The vampire slipped the empty glass vials that were still in his hand into a pocket of his cloak.

Snape shifted in time with the vampire as it tried edging its way closer to Potter. Snape was not letting that thing get anywhere near Potter's body, even if he was already too late to save his life, he could at least do that much for the idiot.

"Perhaps some arrangement can be made?" Snape hardened his stance and clutched his wand all the tighter. The vampire scoffed. "No? Well, if you will not leave quietly and alive, you'll just have to leave screaming and dead. I have always been a practical man," Snape snorted at the term, hell bent on letting the thing know just what he felt about it, as well as its pointless threats.

Some of what Snape believed when he was younger that led him to join the merry band of Death Eaters had stuck though the years. Mainly the prejudice against what Umbridge would call "half-breeds." Snape saw them as dirty menaces to society. Hagrid he had no problem with, but a vampire loose on the streets of Knockturn Alley, just a hop, skip and a jump away from Diagon Alley and the bulk of the Wizarding World? _That_ he wanted nothing more than to scrape from the bottom of his shoe.

This was the kind of scum he felt some moral duty to remove from its place to hurt, maim and kill. Lily and Albus seemed to have rubbed off on him far more than he would prefer to admit.

Lily and Albus. As with Potter, somehow things always wound up back at those two...

The two who left him behind. Who he was responsible for killing, one in a more direct way than the other.

The Vampire chuckled again, a chuckle that was meant to send shivers down a spine but only served to annoy Snape. He was never one for giving in to diversion or scare tactics. Not after what he'd been through. He was far better at administering them.

"Ah, a vampire hater, I see? You wouldn't happen to know Dolores Umbridge, would you? The anti-vamps nowadays tend to riot around the pink little bitch." It spat on the ground. The saliva landed in the pool of Potter's blood.

Snape glared, sticking his nose up at the creature in front of him. "I am familiar with the irksome pink thing that is Umbridge, though I have never and will never willingly associate myself with that woman. Now," he took a step forward, wand still outstretched, feeling only in his late thirties for the first time in a long time, having been doomed to feel like an old man since the end of the war, "you can either leave here dead, or far more dead than you currently are. Your choice." The breathing of two beings, one alive, one undead, was all Snape could hear.

Potter had stopped making any noise at all only a few seconds after the vampire had come back.

Harry Potter was gone.

Swiftly, like the animal it was, the vampire hissed, actually hissed, and rushed Snape. Snape took a step back and swished his wand to hex the thing into a more permanent death when he slipped in Potter's blood.

That moment of hesitation, that literal slip up was all the vampire needed. He leapt at Snape, fangs outstretched, poised and ready. Two elongated canines, stained from years of poor hygiene and blood sucking, sailing toward Snape's throat where an artery of his betrayed his rapid heartbeat. The vampire inhaled, a breath of air before going underwater in Snape's veins, and froze.

Snape, a drop of sweat dripping down his forehead in the cold night, his long hair starting to feel damp against his skin, watched, transfixed and confused as the vampire sniffed the air again and, as quickly as he had stopped, he continued his pounce forward- past Snape and toward Potter's body.

Regaining his faculties, dumbstruck as to why and how in Merlin's name he had managed to bungle that so spectacularly, he raised his wand at the vampire, whose attention was miles away from Snape.

It had stopped, nose scrunched in distaste as he stood just next to the puddle of blood that used to be Potters.

"Hmm, it seems someone got to my dinner before I came back. I do so hate it when uninvited guests stick their noses into my affairs."

Snape, triggered by the nose comment, growled, "Of course someone got here you idiot! That someone is speaking right now and has had enough of your vamping about." He raised his wand and pointed it at the creature, aimed between its eyes.

It just shook its head slowly, lightly, that look of quiet disgust still on its face. He seemed to be listening for something, something Snape couldn't begin to guess at, hear, or frankly begin to care about. He thought the first word of the spell-

And then he noticed it. What the vampire was listening for.

His quickening of breath had covered it, the anomaly in the alleyway.

There were no longer just two beings breathing in that alley. A third slow, steady breathing had joined theirs. Snape looked around for the cause, curse forgotten, new mystery, new fact to be gained about his surroundings.

The vampire just kept staring at Potter with that look on his face, watching his chest rise and fall.

_Hold on, _Snape thought, _Potter's moving?_

Sure enough, the sound, the breathing, was coming from Potter.

His wound had stopped bleeding.

Chuckling filled the alley. "Now you catch up, pathetic little human. One of my kind appears to have spoiled my dinner." Those crooked teeth and sharp canines smiled at him again. "Well, I guess tonight wouldn't be a total loss. There's always you."

With a vague wave of his hand, Snape petrified and silenced the vampire.

Ha- Potter was alive. That changed everything.

Snape walked over to Potter's sleeping body. With a silent spell, he floated the Teen Savior and started walking, then realized how strange that would look. He couldn't Apparate the boy in his condition… He sighed, and, against every instinct he had, carried the nuisance out of Knockturn Alley, onto Diagon Alley and beyond.

_Well, _he thought as he carried the former Savior of the Wizarding World, _this is going to be fun to explain to Minerva._

_Damn, Potter._

* * *

><p>AN: Damn, Potter indeed, Severus! XD<p>

Well, another chapter down. :D

I hope you enjoyed reading it. I must say, I had fun writing it.

If you didn't enjoy reading it… would you mind telling me why? Just so I'll know what not to do next time? :) It would be rather nice of you.

Just so you know, this story, as well as my other one, will probably wind up being… well, I don't want to say "long" but… well, yeah, they will be LOOOONG. So I hope y'all are ready for the long haul! I shall try and make my updates as constant as possible.

Yours truly,

FoverJynxed :3


	3. Unwanted Revelations

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own or even claim to EVER own anything related to Harry Potter or its affiliates. It all belongs to Jo Rowling and the rights are still the sole property of WB and Scholastic and whatever other companies are in charge of distributing HP books, movies and whatnot. I am only a simple fangirl who had an idea and felt the need to write it down and share it with other fangirls who are of similarly-minded types.**

**Oh, and, in case that one didn't get the gist across: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING! Only the laptop on which this was written and a slight case of insomnia. XD**

* * *

><p>AN: Chapter 3 comes to you, rather fittingly, in 3 parts.<p>

Why, you may ask? Because they weren't long enough to be individual chapters and I felt you all deserved a nice, loooooong update. :D (that and I was up till 6am working on it and felt that both you and I had waited long enough for it. XD)

To all who have reviewed and put this on their story alerts and favorites list, I am deeply in your debt. :D I am honored you have graced my story and taken the time out of your lives to read something written by little ol' me.

I hope you enjoy the chapter! Your opinions mean the world to me.

:D

* * *

><p><span>The Bloody Lion and the Snarky Snake<span>

Chapter 3: Unwanted Revelations

Section 1: Land of Confusion

Harry Potter awoke to the sound of his stomach rumbling.

_Bloody stomach, can't you ever wait?_ He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and groaned. He was never a morning person. He ran a hand through his messier than usual hair, unsurprised at its length. _I've really gotta figure out why the hell it does that_, he thought to himself, playing with his now-long hair. It was odd to have already gotten used to it growing while he slept, usually waking up from a nightmare with it-

_Holy shit!_ he thought, suddenly realizing he hadn't had any nightmares. _Wonder how long that'll last_, he thought pessimistically.

Sighing, he rolled over in his bed, reaching for his glasses on his bedside table.

Instead of glasses, his hand found air. There were no glasses and there was no bedside table. Just… air.

Harry opened his eyes to the darkness. _What time is it?_ He thought, wondering why he was hungry if it was still dark in the room?

Figuring that his stomach must have just taken a leaf out of Ron's stomach's book, he sat up, expecting to be in his four-poster bed.

Instead of Gryffindor red bed hangings, though, he only saw darkness. His eyes took a second to adjust and he found he was in a small room with no windows and only a door on the other side of it.

It was just him in the room, the bed he was on and a chair sitting against the opposite wall. Most definitely not his dorm in Gryffindor Tower…

_Where the hell am I? _Harry tried his best to keep calm. Reigning in his urge to start shouting, he took stock of the situation. It seemed to be at night, but there was no way to tell because of the lack of window, so it could be any time. He didn't recognize anything in the room, but thought he heard movement outside of the door. So, he guessed he was alone if only for the time being. _Better than having been kidnapped,_ he guessed.

He looked down, seeing if he was still in one piece. He was definitely _not_ in his normal clothes, that was for certain. He would recognize the ones he was in, however, anywhere. Madam Pomphrey's special brand of Hospital Wing sleep clothes.

Well, I must be at Hogwarts, then, he thought, maybe a room in the dungeons?

But why would he be in the dungeons if he was wearing what he usually was forced to wear in the Hospital Wing? Why not simply _be in_ the Hospital Wing?

The answer to his questions chose that moment to come bustling in through the door in the room. Madame Pomphrey, followed closely by a cart being pushed by none other than Headmistress McGonnogall, entered the small room with a lamp and if anything, the room seemed to become fuzzier with the light.

"Ah, I see you're awake, Mr. Potter. Wonderful timing, wonderful timing." She then took out a goblet and began filling it with some unknown liquid. With no explanation whatsoever, she set the goblet on her tray and started worrying over him as usual as the Headmistress of Hogwarts School sat in the small chair at the other side of the room. Her square spectacles seemed out of place in that room. It would have suited more a horn-rimmed or, well, Dumbledore's glasses. He felt a pang for his lost mentor. He felt pangs for so many losses so often nowadays.

"Well, Mr. Potter, it's good to see you awake. I trust you… slept well?" It was as if McGonnogall, the usually well-spoken teacher and now Headmistress, couldn't figure out what to say. This was getting stranger by the moment for Harry.

"Um, Professor, if you don't mind… where am I?"

McGonnogall simply smiled, "Oh, is that all? Well, Mr. Potter, you are in a room in the dungeons. Well, you were in the Hospital Wing at first, but we felt it better to move you to this particular room for… health reasons." The smile on the Professor's face was as fake as a Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

"Uh-huh… health reasons. Professor, where are my glasses?" He reached up to his face and, sure enough, just as he thought they weren't there. He could see rather well without them, though. That was peculiar.

"Well, Mr. Potter, in the excitement of the other night, your glasses were lost-"

"Excitement? What excitement?" Harry couldn't remember any excitement. As a matter of fact, Harry couldn't remember much of anything at that moment.

"Actually, Potter," a black figure in the doorway drawled, "we were hoping you would be able to fill us in on that particular subject. Mainly why you were out of the castle, at night, yet again seeming hell-bent on getting yourself killed?"

_Out of the castle? Getting myself killed…_ He thought about it-

He remembered. It all came back to him in a flash, running down the alleyways, being attacked, everything going black. _Merlin, what had he gotten himself into?_

"Well, Severus, I'm glad you have yet to do anything to _upset_ Mr. Potter." McGonnogall said, sarcasm laced in her voice. Snape just rolled his eyes and sauntered into the room looking as if he owned the place.

Madame Pomphrey on the other hand, looked downright shocked.

"Why Severus… That wasn't nearly up to your usual par for sadistic and just plain hurtful words. The boy's not even crying! Are you feeling okay?" The look on Snape's face when Pomphrey put her hand on his forehead to check him for fever was absolutely priceless. Lined with fury didn't quite capture it. It's amazing how funny something can seem when it's not being used on _you_…

"Ha ha, Poppy, you are absolutely hilarious, as usual," he drawled, swatting away the Matron.

"Mr. Potter, if you don't mind, we would like to inquire as to what exactly happened last night?" McGonnogall looked over her glasses at Harry, doing rather a good impression of her predecessor. Well, the one before Snape that is. He always forgot Snape was Headmaster.

Harry just looked confused. "Believe me, Professor, I'm about as confused about it as you are-"

"The Headmistress is not, in fact, as confused as you would think, Potter."

Harry snapped at being interrupted. "I wasn't aware I was talking to you, _Snape._ Don't you have some Hufflepuffs to terrify somewhere?"

Snape looked like he had swallowed a lemon. "Of all the bloody ungrateful things you have ever said to me, Potter, that tops the list!"

"Severus, you will watch your language!" McGonnogall cut him off.

"The bloody nuisance leaves the school, nay, the bloody _country_, and shows back up after being attacked, with long hair and a bloody ungrateful attitude, Minerva, I do believe I am within my rights to swear if I wish." _Wow,_ Harry thought, _never thought I would see Snape going off on McGonnogall. At least not since the whole flying-out-of-a-window-to-avoid-her thing last year._

"Severus, I understand your being annoyed with the current situation, but that does not mean you can go around saying whatever you wish to the students. Particularly calling him ungrateful when I have yet to witness him being such." Snape balked at her.

"You can't be serious!" Snape went off, listing ways Harry had been ungrateful, several of which were actually quite inventive for them only having said about 20 words to each other since Snape had walked in (one was merely stating that he was Potter, therefore ungrateful) until McGonnogall cut him off, silencing the dungeon bat with a glare.

_5 points to McGonnogall_, Harry thought.

"Harry, I really would like to hear your version of events for last night." Harry kept silent, pulling at the white sheet still covering his legs. "Potter," Harry registered the switch of names as being a bad sign and sensed a lecture, "if you plan on continuing at this school, then I would suggest you tell us exactly what happened last night to lead to you lying bleeding on the ground in Knockturn Alley of all places."

Harry really wasn't in the mood to get lectured by the greasy git or McGonnogall, and _he_ had yet to figure out exactly what had happened last night. There was a spot where it all just went black and he had no idea what the hell _Snape_ had to do with it. Secondly, why was he even here with Pomphrey fussing over him to begin with since there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him? What weren't they telling him?

"Honestly, Minerva, it's his own fault." Snape conjured up a straight wooden chair next to McGonnogall's and sat in it. "It's obvious what happened. Potter went waltzing around Knockturn Alley like he always does, laughing in the face of danger or whatever Gryffindors are calling it nowadays-"

"I didn't go there for fun, Snape! Do you really think I'm dumb enough to go walking around Knockturn Alley alone at night for kicks?"

"Well, then, enlighten us, Potter. What, pray tell, actually happened last night?"

Harry glared at Snape. Then, seeing the look on Headmistress McGonnogall's face, sighed and began his version of events.

Section 2: Harry's Story aka Murphy's Law

_Damn Aurors_, Harry thought as he dove into yet _another_ alleyway to avoid being seen. _I mean, just how thorough do their checks need to be? I'm glad they're keeping the streets safe, but do they have to get in my way?_

Harry had yet again been noticed in his Hogwarts robes as he crept through Diagon Alley. He only wore the things to blend in, too. The irony was not lost on him.

He had yet to be recognized, partly thanks to the rather interesting effect his sleeplessness had had, mainly causing his hair to grow several inches overnight. Harry suspected it was some latent accidental magic left over from his days in the cupboard when his Aunt had attempted to tame his untamable hair. It always grew back, much to Harry's amusement back then. Though he couldn't understand why it was happening now, he didn't quite care to find out. It was helping him rather well, after all, and a minor haircut each morning made it as if it had never happened.

The Aurors, though, were always just a bit too skeptical about an apparent Hogwarts student wandering around Diagon Alley in the dead of night. Harry Potter or no, he would have gotten into serious trouble if he were caught.

_The things I do to keep myself sane_, he thought ruefully. Thanks to Snape's ban on owl-ordering potion ingredients, for the students at least, Harry had been forced to come up with a more… _inventive_ means for procuring the ingredients he needed.

Once a week, Harry Potter would be forced to sneak out of Hogwarts to purchase the ingredients he needed to keep his supply of Dreamless Sleep Draught fully stocked. "It's either breaking the rules or going insane from lack of sleep. Personally, I'd rather break the rules," he'd explained to Ron when he had caught him sneaking out the second time. Ron just shrugged and said, "Well, we _did_ break into Gringotts, so who am I to judge?" winked, and let him leave with a last minute request that he bring him back a butterbeer if he had the chance.

Since the end of the final war against Voldemort, Harry had yet to have a full night's, uninterrupted sleep that wasn't aided by a potion. Even then, he could only "take the smallest dosage and get up to four hours worth or risk becoming addicted and/or dependant upon it," as the witch at the apothecary had pointed out when he first went to buy what he needed to make it. He merely nodded vaguely and left, wondering how in the world that witch had figured out what he was using the ingredients for that quickly.

Despite, or rather _in spite_, of what Snape thought, Harry could brew pretty well. … this one potion, at least.

"Necessity is the mother of invention," Hermione had said, noticing the improvement in his brewing skills. Though, actually making something slightly passable even by Snape standards for once can't necessarily be considered an improvement. More like an act of god.

Speaking of necessity, Harry needed to figure out another way to get what he came for that didn't involve getting caught out of Hogwarts grounds.

Harry had noticed he was being followed the week prior, probably Snape from the sound of it, or rather, the lack of sound of it. As such, he had been a little hasty in Apparating away and had, in fact, landed not in the dark, secluded alleyway he had meant to, but right in front of a group of Aurors (with the war over and most of the dark wizards having been caught already, this particular, _elite_, branch of the Ministry had nothing better to do than become _security guards_) coming off their shift from guarding Gringotts. (Since Harry, Ron and Hermione's little escapade with breaking in, the goblins had insisted on increasing security. Harry still wondered why he hadn't been arrested for that. Perhaps it was because the break in had been overshadowed by his defeating Voldemort later that day? Probably.) Unable to do anything but Apparate back to Hogsmeade, the Shrieking Shack to be specific, he hadn't been able to complete his task and as such had been out of Dreamless Sleep for a week. Needless to say, the bags under his eyes had intensified tenfold and even the teachers had asked him how he had been sleeping lately. McGonnogall had called him into her office to "talk about how things were going with him" the night before. Not even walks around the castle at night had been enough to calm or exhaust or even just make him forget enough to sleep.

Forget. That was all Harry wanted to do.

He racked his brain, ducking behind another corner to continue his evasion of the Aurors, trying to find some way to get his shopping done and get out without being pointed out by the shopkeepers.

As he passed by a sign, the answer hit him like a ton of bricks. Knockturn Alley.

Hearing the sound of a scuffing shoe, followed immediately by the slight dragging of a cloak, whomever was following him seeming to have kept up at this point, Harry did exactly what everything in his mind and body told him not to do: he turned down Knockturn Alley.

Harry had only seen this place by the light of day before, and it was creepy enough then. Now? Well, let's just say he hoped he would be able to find what he needed and quickly so he could just get back home- to the castle and just start brewing already.

He thought he heard another cloak, maybe a shoe scuff the cobblestones, behind him. Not daring to look back in case it was Snape or another Hogwarts teacher, Harry just ducked behind the nearest corner-

And found himself in an alley. A dead-ended alleyway, to be exact.

He sighed, taking out his wand to just Apparate hom- to the _castle _and try it again tomorrow in the nicer part of town.

Just then, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps and a cloak dragging. Those were definitely not sounds Snape, or any other Hogwarts teacher, would make. The sounds came from behind him. From where the opening to the alleyway he was otherwise confined to and completely unable to escape from if attacked was located.

Figuring he needed to get the hell out of there, Harry took a step forward, preparing to Apparate, thinking of ho- _the damned CASTLE! I really need to stop thinking of it as home,_ Harry thought. _It'll be much easier on me when I have to leave if I stop._

The moment it took for him to berate himself about thinking about the castle was all it took for him, wand still in his hand, being bloody _useless_, to sense someone behind him and feel a small, pinprick of pain in his neck. Out of instinct, he smashed his elbow into his attacker, hearing the sound of breaking glass at the contact. He reached his hand to his shoulder when the pinprick of pain was, just in time for it to be accompanied by a significantly larger pain in his neck, further above where the pinprick was. Two significantly larger, stabbing pains right next to each other to be exact.

His hand stopped at his neck by the time he was unable to move. Not a single limb would do anything to run from his attacker or so much as yell for help. In shock, he fell to the ground, feeling blood slowly running down his neck. He had felt this way before, he knew. Petrified with his eyes open, only able to watch and do nothing about it back in that tower with Dumbledore. Had he been petrified again?

He looked up, eyes swiveling in his head, searching for his attacker. He wasn't that hard to find, to be honest.

A man, at least that's the closest thing he could describe him as being, wearing robes, large brown boots, with hair resembling a- he was shocked at the thought- dirtier version of Severus Snape's, and a very pissed off expression on his face, loomed over Harry.

He snarled at him. "Damned Hogwarts brat, you broke my vials!" Still snarling, he shrugged a shoulder, "No matter, it's not like you're going anywhere anytime soon." He chuckled to himself and, turning away from the alley, left him with a parting phrase, "Be back soon, Dinner."

_Dinner? Why the hell did that bastard call me dinner?_ Harry's mind was racing, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He looked around and found his wand was laying on the ground beside him. Trying desperately, he tried to will his limbs to reach for it, but to no avail. He couldn't understand why he was unable to move. His arm had landed against his neck when he fell and the hand, pressed against where he had felt the pain, due to the wonder that was gravity, was covered in blood. His blood.

He tried speaking, screaming, even just blinking but to no avail. He was completely immobile.

Minutes passed with nothing happening. Harry was beginning to think he had been forgotten about. Half-heartedly, he wished whatever teacher had been following him would find him, but he knew it was worthless.

Harry lost track of how much time had passed with nothing in the alley to occupy his mind but a torch on the wall and the puddle of his own blood that he could feel getting bigger around him.

By then, Harry's mind had begun to get a tad fuzzy, he assumed from blood loss. It had happened to him before, he remembered the basilisk bite in his second year. He then heard something coming, running up to him.

Whatever it was, Harry's muddled mind had turned it into a blazing fire for some reason, knelt next to him, checking his pulse and cursing. "He's been bit," the fire said to its friend, whom Harry hadn't noticed was there.

The fire and its friend argued for a moment until the fire finally spit out, "I won't let him just die here!" and Harry heard a small squelching noise and then tasted something terrible, like liquid metal was being poured into his mouth. He couldn't move to swallow or spit out the metal, but he felt it sliding down his throat anyway. After a moment, it actually started tasting rather better than it had at first…

"Someone's coming!" Fire's friend hissed, and then they were gone, leaving only the aftertaste of the metal in his mouth to prove they were even there.

Harry heard a splash in a puddle, of what he didn't know, and, after a moment, a mumbled curse of some kind, it sounded like, "Shit," but Harry couldn't be certain. His mind went back to the thing that attacked him and, seeing that the person that was in the alley now looked a lot like him but wasn't him, tried to ask for help, tell the figure to leave before the other thing came back. He found he couldn't make so much as a sound, though. He was completely frozen and everything around him, even the figure, started to go fuzzy.

The last thing he saw was the flicker of the torch in the alley, and he realized that the fire may not have been there after all, when he gurgled something, finally a sound out of his mouth!, and then everything went black.

Harry Potter knew no more.

Section 3: The Truth at Last aka Snape Likes Being Blunt

When Harry finished, it was to two shocked faces, McGonnogall and Pomphrey, and one smug one. You can guess which one that is.

"See, Minerva? I told you it was his own damned fault."

"If I have to tell you to watch your language one more time, Severus…" she let the threat hang. Harry was impressed.

Snape rolled his eyes. "By the way, Potter, the last person you saw before so graciously blacking out was me." Harry wasn't quite as surprised as he should have been.

"I should've known. Had a feeling it was you following me around." Harry shrugged his shoulder.

Wait. His shoulder. Harry grabbed his shoulder, moving his hand slowly toward his throat, it stopping about halfway up his neck, right where he had felt the punctures the night before.

Punctures? He ran his fingers over the two small bumps on the side of his neck. More like bite marks. Maybe… fang marks? What in the hell had attacked him?

"Now that I've told you what I know, how about you tell me what you know? What attacked me last night and why the hell did it have fangs?"

Pomphrey and McGonnogall exchanged worried looks while Snape just sighed. Neither of those things were ever good signs.

"Well, thanks to your finally having woken up long enough to tell us all that absolutely _riveting _tale, I do believe I have filled in all of the pieces to the puzzle that is the life of Harry Potter," Snape drawled.

Harry gritted his teeth, "Well, then why don't you fill me in?"

Snape sighed. "I was really hoping this whole fiasco wasn't going to take up any more of my time than it already has. Just waiting all day for you to wake up was enough for me, thank you."

"All day? How long was I out?" No wonder he felt rested, if he had been sleeping all day.

"You have been asleep for 17 hours, Potter, give or take. You were knocked out sometime last night and have been in this room, asleep, since you were brought back from Knockturn Alley."

Harry just nodded, taking it in. He needed to know…

"What happened to me?" the question wasn't to anyone in particular, though it was Snape who chose to answer. Bloody dungeon bat.

"Well, you know what led to your being attacked." He sneered, "That first pinprick of pain you felt was a simple muggle needle. Upon further inspection, I found what it was. You seem to have been injected with a temporary paralytic made from, and I do hope you'll appreciate the irony, though I doubt you will, snake venom."

Git.

"And _after_ being injected with whatever you just said?" Harry was tired of getting the runaround. He'd been under the apparently mistaken impression that after the war people would finally stop leaving him out of the loop of knowledge where his life was concerned. He was starting to get that pawn feeling again and he didn't like it one bit.

Snape just sneered. "The 'whatever I just said' as you so quaintly put it, made you completely defenseless, something not all that new to you I assume, Potter," Harry glared at him, the git was out in full force it seemed. "Once defenseless, it seems you were bitten and… well, as you stated, you had broken the glass in his pocket, potion vials, I do believe, presumably to harvest your blood for a later time. That caused your attacker's departure from the alleyway. You apparently hallucinated something to do with talking fire- a psychological examination for the boy wouldn't be too terrible an idea by the way, Poppy- and it was then that I found you-"

"-fought off a blood-thirsty vampire, saved your life for the umpteenth time, and carried you all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron, flooed to Hogwarts, ran up four floors of stairs, then deposited you into your usual bed in my Hospital Wing before offering up a spare room he had in the dungeons for you to be moved to." Madame Pomphrey recounted the events as if it was an everyday occurrence, bustling about the infirmary fluffing pillows and placing a rather nice-smelling goblet of some dark liquid onto the small table next to Harry's bed.

"Madame Pomphrey seems to have decided to embellish the story a bit," Snape ground out through grit teeth, "as all I did was get you back in one piece. Minerva would've killed me otherwise, Potter, and you certainly aren't worth my getting myself killed over." His lip rose in a disgusted snarl as he eyed the goblet Pomphrey had set down earlier.

Harry still had a feeling something was being kept from him, as Pomphrey had yet to meet his eye and Snape even seemed on edge- well, more on edge than usual, that is.

"What aren't you telling me?" Harry demanded. Madame Pomphrey knocked over a tray of potions in response to the question and Snape's nostrils flared. _Not a good sign…_

Snape spoke up- recovered is more like it- first. "If you haven't managed to figure it out for yourself, Potter, than you don't deserve to find out," he drawled.

Harry was officially irritated. More secrets being kept from him!

"Just tell me! It happened to ME, didn't it? So I think I have the right to know what the bloody hell had happened!"

Right as McGonnogall was scolding him for his language, Snape said something that would change Harry's life forever:

"Well, Potter, if you must know, you died. Again."

"… I… I what?" He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it. He was here, he was alive, right now. Breathing with blood pumping in his veins, Snape can't tell him he's dead!

"You _died_, Potter. What, you're having trouble understanding the easy words now, too? Did that vampire take IQ points as well as your blood?"

Harry felt his eyes bulge. _Vampire?_

"A- A- I was attacked by a VAMPIRE?"

Snape looked bored, "Yes, Potter, that was what I said. Do you need your ears checked, as well?"

He couldn't believe it. He felt the marks on his neck again. Bite marks. _Fang_ marks. He was bitten by a vampire.

Pomphrey had mentioned a vampire, but he hadn't thought anything of it when she did. Now… he thought he was going to vomit.

"I know that look," Pomphrey said as she walked toward him with a bucket she transfigured out of an empty potion bottle. He gave her a grateful look and happily took the bucket as the nausea swept over him.

"Hmm," Snape said from his spot on the chair, looking like he was simply contemplating the weather, "I wasn't aware they _could_ vomit."

The nausea increased.

"'_They?'"_

"Yes, Potter, 'they.'" Snape gave him a steady look for the first time since he had woken up. "The fire as you had put it, was another vampire that had come across your body. The liquid metal you had tasted was, in fact-"

"No," Harry didn't want to hear it, he couldn't.

Snape continued as if not interrupted, "-the vampire's blood, which needs to be ingested after having been bitten by a vampire, and losing a certain amount of blood, in order to save a person's life by taking their life away. In order to make them into what had killed them to begin with."

"No, please…"

"Yes, Potter! You cannot avoid it! You cannot deny it, you **cannot** do anything but accept it and move on. You were bitten by a vampire, on the cusp of dying you drank another vampire's blood and then you died. You were reborn anew minutes later, the wound having closed up and you healed because you were no longer human. You were one of them, one of the things that did this to you."

"NO!" Harry screamed at Snape, feeling something inside him begin roaring, begin screaming for life, screaming to be let out. "IT'S NOT TRUE!"

Snape stood, looming over Harry the way the vampire had in that alleyway. "Yes it is! You are one of them! You are a _vampire_!" He screamed it in his face. Harry could feel Snape's breath and hear his heart beating, the rush of his angered pulse, the blood pumping through his veins- "Hungry, Potter?" Snape smirked and pointed toward Harry's mouth, "You should really be more careful with those things, you could bite your tongue."

Harry sat back down, he hadn't even realized he'd gotten up, and thre his hands over his mouth. Gently, cautiously, his tongue felt around his teeth and, sure enough, he found two large, very sharp teeth where his canines should be.

It was true. He was an undead creature of the night that hated garlic, crosses, and had an extreme aversion to the daylight.

No wonder he had slept all day, he probably couldn't do anything _but _sleep when the sun was out. Yesterday he had been a normal person (well, as normal as it gets being Harry Potter), and today… he wasn't even human anymore.

"If you don't believe me, then look in a mirror. You'll see."

He shook his head, resigned. "Don't worry, Snape, I believe you.

"I'm a vampire."

Harry then found out the hard way that vampires cry tears of blood.

AN: well, here we are, at the end of another chapter.

So, Harry's a vampire and Snape's a snarky bastard, what else is new? XD

If you feel that niggling feeling that something is off or you just want to let me know what you thought (keeping in mind that flames will be viciously mocked by my rather overprotective friends), then please don't hesitate to send in a review. :D

I hope you all are having lovely weeks and you join me for the next chapter, which should be posted in two days, I'm trying to stay on a schedule of one post a day, swapping back and forth between this and my other story. So, here's hoping I stay on schedule! I have yet to deviate from it so far. ;D

Yours truly,

ForeverJynxed aka An Author Who is Extremely Grateful to Anyone Who Reads What She Writes. (Even the ones who don't like it! :D)


	4. Worries, Meetings, and a Flippy Threat

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own or even claim to EVER own anything related to Harry Potter or its affiliates. It all belongs to Jo Rowling and the rights are still the sole property of WB and Scholastic and whatever other companies are in charge of distributing HP books, movies and whatnot. I am only a simple fangirl who had an idea and felt the need to write it down and share it with other fangirls who are of similarly-minded types.**

**Oh, and, in case that one didn't get the gist across: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING! Only the laptop on which this was written and a slight case of insomnia. XD**

AN: Here we are with another chapter! :D

Sorry, this took a tad longer than I had expected. Several friends' birthday parties and graduations. Long story short: The chapter is HERE! XD

Before you say anything, I do some Professor-bashing in here but believe me, it is NOT my opinion of them, it is my narration of Snape's.

So, please, don't get mad at me. :S I love all of the Professors!

I'm still not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I knew that if I didn't post it I would regret it and it wouldn't get posted for two more days because I have a graduation to go to tonight.

Hoping you enjoy the chapter, even if it may seem a tad rushed, I swear it was intentional? ~looks around to see if anyone bought it~ Nope? Well, then…

Have fun reading!

Yours truly,

ForeverJynxed

* * *

><p><span>The Bloody Lion and the Snarky Snake<span>

Chapter 4: Worries, Meetings and a Flippy Threat

Severus Snape was NOT worried about Harry Potter.

Nope. Not at all. Not a fiber of his being was worried about the crying, just-found-out-he-was-a-vampire of a teenager in front of him.

Oh, blast it all, who the hell as he kidding? He'd been worried about the teenager from the moment he saw him in that alley.

Not that he would ever let anyone see that. No, Severus hadn't gone soft or daft enough to let anyone know he may have been _on his way_ to going soft.

So, even though he wanted to summon a handkerchief or something for the boy, to comfort him in some small, Snape-acceptable way, instead he just sneered at him.

That little voice in his head he often attributed to being Albus was telling him that being cruel to the boy was only hindering things, but Snape chose to ignore the voice yet again.

All it did was get him into trouble.

"Oh, stop your sniveling, Potter. You didn't turn into a pygmy puff, so stop acting like one."

Stained with red tears of blood, Potter's face turned to him, set in a glare that he rather preferred to the weepy version he had seen mere moments ago.

"You really should stop antagonizing the boy, Severus," Minerva seemed to be holding back the same urge to give the teen a hanky, "it will only result in a greater animosity between the two of you." She was taking Potter's side as usual. Though, it got him to stop crying, so whatever worked was acceptable to Snape.

Madam Pomfrey, ever the professional, simply ignored Snape and McGonnogall's fighting and, having to urge the teen on a tad, convinced him to take the goblet full of what Snape knew for a fact was blood.

Snape watched the teen's expression as he drank it. First, he sniffed it lightly, looking almost disbelieving at how nice it apparently smelled, he then took a small, wary sip. His eyes lit up as he then chugged the rest of the goblet as if it were the first and only food he would ever be supplied with.

"Careful, Mr. Potter, it's the first thing you've eaten, you don't want to make yourself sick." Poppy really was insufferable when she was in "Matron-Mode," so Snape ignored her like she had him.

Snape scoffed. "Believe me, Minerva, we would be hard pressed to make our animosity any deeper. You could already dig a hole through the diameter of the Earth with the depth of our… animosity." He held in using a stronger word, for fear the tears would start up again and the newly vampiric teen was already covered in his own tears of blood enough for one day, as far as he was concerned.

"He has a point, Professor." Potter emerged from his task, having finished his goblet, of draining the cup in his hands of every last drop of blood held within it. Looking as if he wanted to ask for more, he set the empty goblet down on the table next to him.

Poppy looked pleased. "This is going to sound like an odd question, Mr. Potter, but you must answer it: how did it taste? Good, or would you prefer a different type?" Snape couldn't believe the woman. Asking Potter about his preferences where it came to blood? He scoffed, knowing that there was no way in hell, if Potter did _indeed_ request a different type, that he was getting it. Knowing full well where the blood came from, and how difficult it was to finally convince someone to donate it, he knew that there was a better chance of Filch winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award than Potter getting another blood type.

Luckily, the vampire seemed to have enjoyed his particular brand of entrée. "Oh, no, Madam Pomfrey, that was-" he caught himself, seeming to be… ashamed of what he was about to say. _Odd,_ Snape thought,_ shame was something I never would have dreamed to see on a Potter's face. Then again, he was a vampire now, so maybe the old Potter rules no longer applied?_

Potter settled for nodding instead of finishing his sentence.

"Well, I'm glad you found that type to your liking, Mr. Potter, I know how picky v- your kind can be." The change of word, instead of helping like Snape supposed Poppy meant it to, caused the Potter boy to dissolve into tears yet again, which he quickly tried to hide, using the blanket on his bed to soak up the moisture now accumulating on his face.

When his face was mostly cleaned, he pulled the blanket away and glanced at it, then did a double-take, shocked at first to see that it was covered in blood.

"Your tears, Potter, they are, indeed, blood." Snape drawled, answering the boy's unspoken question.

"Is everything I do now going to come out as blood?" Snape inwardly groaned at how ignorant Potter was when it came to vampires.

"I was under the impression you had already been taught about vampires in the past, Potter. Or did you just find it not worth your time to commit a single thing about them to memory?"

Potter opened his mouth to snap back at Snape when a throat cleared from the doorway. Snape turned to find the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher leaning against the wall, eyebrow raised enquiringly at the argument he had walked in on.

"Am I, uh, interrupting anything?" Professor Hanley, or "Manly Hanley" as the female population of Hogwarts had deemed him, much to Snape's annoyance, was 6'4" of pure Lockheart-level aggravation to Snape. The fact that he and Potter were chums didn't do anything to help his particular hatred toward the flippy-haired man.

"No, Professor, you're not. Severus and Harry were acting like themselves again, nothing different." Minerva sounded almost bored when she said it. Snape liked to think his spats with Potter were at least noteworthy, if nothing else. This irked the already agitated man.

"Yes, nothing different, so run along now, there must be a member of the female population within the walls of the castle that hasn't demanded a picture with you, Hanley, go help them with that." Sneering was what Severus Snape did best.

And he did so love to sneer.

Particularly at Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers.

Hanley just tossed his- again, the only word to describe it is _flippy_- brown hair and took a step into the room, acting as if he owned the place. "Actually, Snape, I was sent down here to find yourself, Minerva and Poppy. The faculty are all congregated in the teacher's lounge and ready for the meeting you requested, Headmistress."

He smiled that "My teeth are a glaring white, everybody swoon" smile that only served to disgust Snape. _Bastards like that man shouldn't be teaching children, they should be sharing a room in St. Mungo's with Lockheart. Nothing good can come from a man with flippy hair and straight, bleach-white teeth._

_Nothing._

Minerva answered the man's "charming" smile. "Oh, why, yes, Professor, thank you for coming to tell us." Minerva stood to leave, calling Poppy to her.

Snape had an issue with this. "Minerva, if I may, if we are all going to this particular meeting, which I do believe we all _should_, who exactly is going to stay with Potter?"

Minerva looked confused, like she had no idea what he was talking about. _What, is this bastard, part Veela or something?_ Snape thought.

"What? Oh, you mean stay with Harry. Well, I do believe we can simply leave him here, Severus, he shouldn't hurt anything."

Snape held in the eye-roll that was begging to happen. "Minerva," he whispered so that Poppy and He-Who-Has-Unnaturally-Flippy-Hair couldn't hear, "it is not the room I am worried about Potter hurting. He has just regained his strength, which he still doesn't know the full extent of, and seems to be rather bipolar and distraught at the moment." Minerva didn't seem to be understanding him, "I will put it simply: I feel that if we leave Potter here alone, we may not have a Potter to come back to."

She got it with that one. Clearing her throat, she nodded far too many times than was necessary, an odd, blank look on her face. "Yes, Severus, you are right. Someone must stay here and… keep Harry company."

_Well, that is one way of phrasing it. Suicide watch doesn't have quite the same ring as "keep Harry company,"_ _after all_, Snape thought, sarcasm even managing to lace his thoughts.

A throat cleared to his left. Snape sneered at that, it seeming to be Hanley's own personal rendition of Umbridge's annoying "Hem-hem." "If you wouldn't mind, Minerva, I do believe I can look after the boy. We are, after all, rather close and you can just fill me in on what happens in this, apparently very important, meeting at a later date.

"

Snape then realized what Hanley reminded him of. Those plastic child's dolls, where they would have the males of them with perfectly-coiffed hair and big, fake plastic smiles. Hanley could double as a life-sized version of one of those.

_Fucking Ken Doll_, Snape thought with a smirk.

Minerva seemed to think that was a wonderful idea, for some strange reason. "Why, thank you, Professor. We'll be back as soon as we can be, then. Severus, Poppy, I do believe we have kept the others waiting long enough." She then left the room with Poppy, who took one last look at Potter to make sure he was alright, leaving Snape and Hanley the only humans left in the room.

"A word of caution, Hanley, purely because I would prefer to not have to clean up after anyone: Do not upset Potter." He may have hated the man, but he had yet to learn what Potter was, none of the faculty knowing that they now had a vampire in their midst. He really would have preferred to just allow Potter to eliminate this annoyance, but he never had quite the luck for that to happen, so thought against it.

However nice the idea of coming back to find Hanley lying bleeding on the stone floor may have been. Snape had _some_ personal standards, after all. He wasn't a _complete_ sociopath.

Hanley just smiled that plastic smile at him. "Don't worry, Snape, I have no intention to upset Potter. We're friends, right, Harry?"

Snape flinched a tad at a Professor other than Minerva or Poppy using Potter's first name. It just didn't seem right.

He looked at the vampire, still sitting on the bed, looking like he wanted nothing more than to _not_ be involved in a battle between Snape and Hanley.

"Um… yeah, Professor, we're friends." Potter's mouth moved slightly, he guessed it was supposed to be a smile. _Merlin, he becomes a magical creature and suddenly Potter loses the ability to smile. What the bloody hell is the world coming to?_

Unable to stomach whatever drivel was bound to come next, Snape curtly nodded and left the room, still holding out hope of finding a dead Hanley when he came back.

* * *

><p>Severus Snape always hated staff meetings. Not that he hated his coworkers, on the contrary, most of them were rather intelligent and friends of his, it was that they now all hated him. Or at least, they thought he was an evil, sadistic murderer for over a year and now that they knew he was, in fact, <em>not<em>, they felt they had to make it up to him.

Particularly because he had been the Headmaster the year before and they had disrespected him at every turn, even the ones where he was trying to help the students without letting the Carrows, and therefore the Dark Lord, know.

They were also insufferable when worried about Potter. Say his name and that you have "news" about him and they immediately went into panic mode.

Not that "panic mode" wasn't appropriate at that particular juncture. On the contrary, panicking would probably be the best way for them to go about this. Get them to realize just how much Potter has changed by becoming what he has, even if _he_ had yet to figure it out.

"Everyone, if we could have your attention, please, we shall get this meeting started." Minerva was sitting at the head of the staff table, the spot that looked awkward if not held by Albus. When Snape was Headmaster, he had felt as if he were disgracing the table when he sat there. Now it just looked comical for the cat to occupy the chair.

"What exactly is going on, Minerva?" Pomona always looked uncomfortable when she wasn't in the greenhouses, like she belonged with the plants.

Snape had no issue with the Hufflepuff staying with her foliage. Less whiny worrying.

"Hanley said it was something to do with Potter. Is he alright?" Fillius squeaked his question.

"I regret that I have to inform you all that Harry Potter had a run in with a wizard last night, and-"

"Actually, Minerva, he wasn't a wizard." Snape interrupted Minerva, much to her displeasure. "That's a common misconception, they are not all wizards, in fact _most_ of them are muggles because it takes a certain brand of idiot to allow yourself to be caught by one of them if you have a wand on you." _Potter was most definitely that brand of idiot._

"Yes, Severus, thank you for that unnecessary interruption." Minerva's eyes were looking distinctly cat-like as she glared at the Potions Professor. "As I was saying, Mr. Potter was attacked last night. He was out of school grounds when he was cornered and then bitten by a vampire." At the last word the entire room but the three who already knew gasped.

"A vampire? But that's impossible, how on earth did Potter manage to come across a vampire?" The Ancient Runes teacher, Bathsheda Babbling, asked rather stupidly, in Snape's opinion. _That woman truly is correctly named,_ he thought, rolling his eyes at her.

"As Minerva stated, Potter was off school grounds. Knockturn Alley, to be precise." Snape rather enjoyed the looks of shock and awe at Potter's location.

"However much Potter being attacked may affect us emotionally, that doesn't explain why you called an entire meeting just to tell us that Potter now has another scar to add to his myriad of them. What aren't you telling us, Minerva?" Madam Hooch was the only one suspicious of the meeting. Snape was rather proud that the _entire_ faculty of Hogwarts didn't go mush-headed when Potter's name was brought up.

"You are right, Rolanda. There is… more to our calling you here. You see, as hard as it is for me to tell you this, you must be made aware because we now have a very difficult decision ahead of us. Harry Potter was not only attacked by a vampire, but has become one."

Every single member of the staff was silent. It lasted all of 20 seconds, then they all erupted into angry and panicked discussion.

Hagrid was, luckily, not at the school. Snape couldn't imagine what this uproar would sound like with the half-giant adding to it.

"Could we please have some order? Are you Hogwarts Professors or not?" Poppy managed to get them to quiet down, her unforgiving demeanor being rather the nice assistance when put to good use.

"Thank you, Poppy. Now, to the reason for my having called you here and told you about Potter. It is up to us to decide if we will allow Harry to continue his last year of schooling here or send him home immediately."

"Harry will always be welcome here, Minerva, isn't that what you told him when he asked to come back this year?" Pomona was always quick to remind Minerva of things she had once said. Some would call it being thorough and protective, Snape found it annoying.

"Yes, but this is a rather special case. There are certain… rules, laws you might say, that are put into effect when a student is… changed while attending the school."

"Changed being a euphemism for 'Turned into a blood-thirsty monster,'" Snape quipped.

"Don't make me silence you, Severus." Minerva meant it, he knew.

"What I would like to know is, how exactly did this all happen? Why was Potter out of the school to begin with?" Flitwick piped in with his high-pitched voice once more. _Rather a good question,_ Snape thought.

Together, with quite the colorful commentary from Snape, the Headmistress, Potions Master and Matron recounted the tale of how Potter became no longer human.

"That poor boy… first the war and now that he's finally found some peace in his life, this happens!" Pomona was enraged on Potter's behalf.

"If you ask me, it was his own damned fault."

"Severus!" McGonnogall was furious with him.

"You can't say I'm wrong Minerva. The damned idiot was in Knockturn Alley on his own, at night, and was only attacked because he went into a dead end and _stood facing away from the entrance to the alley. _It's a damned good thing the boy is no longer eligible to be an Auror because I highly doubt they would want someone that moronic in the department. It's filled with enough idiots already-" Minerva, finally having enough, silenced him.

Literally, she cast a _Silencio_ at him.

It was Snape's turn to be furious.

_Damned woman, I was only telling the truth!_

"Sorry for Severus' attitude toward this, everyone, but as we stated, he was the one who found Harry last night and he has been nothing short of irritating since then. I prefer to think it's because he's worried about the boy." Snape shook his head vehemently, making sure nobody thought she was right. Which she, in fact, was, but Snape didn't want anyone thinking it!

"Well, _is_ Potter doing alright? Has anything else changed about him? I understand that becoming a vampire can be difficult for someone, particularly if they are younger." Aurora Sinistra served as the voice of reason. Snape was glad his fellow Slytherin was quick enough to question Potter when he was unable to talk.

"Thankfully, Harry is coping rather well to finding out he is a vampire. Aside from the expected reaction, he has yet to do anything out of character. No, I do believe he is still the same old Harry Potter."

Snape, unable to hold in his statement, un-silenced himself, "… aside from the fact that I angered him earlier and he bared his _fangs_ at me, I would have to agree with Minerva. As Aurora pointed out, newborn vampires are notoriously difficult to handle, not being used to the changes in mood and temperament that comes along with being what they are."

"As much as I may hate to admit it, Severus has a point. Which is why I called for an emergency meeting. We, as a faculty, have to decide whether or not it is in the best interest of not only Mr. Potter, but of Hogwarts herself, for us to allow him to continue his education at this school."

The teachers all began talking amongst themselves, some bringing up valid points while others stated how Hogwarts has always given students a fighting chance.

Flitwick stated, "We have already had a werewolf attend here and that wasn't any problem, how is Potter's situation any different?"

Snape, resisting the urge to state just how much of a problem the werewolf actually was, remembering quite vividly the time when he was almost killed by said magical creature while still in school, explained just how different the situations were.

"While a werewolf spends 90-someodd percent of their lives as a human, vampires are what they are every hour of the day. They only consume blood and their bloodlust tends to overshadow everything else about them. While I am certain that Potter is too much of a pure-hearted Golden Boy to actually attack a student willingly, vampires have been known to attack their closest friends and family if starved enough or if they feared for their lives."

"Well, I highly doubt Potter will be fearing for his life any time soon." Hooch said it like it was an assurance.

"Rolanda, I can assure you, nothing is certain when it comes to Potter." Snape knew Potter had already proven that, when it comes to him, what can go wrong will go wrong, on several different occasions, and made impossible things happen every day. And never in a good way.

The staff went on to discuss how difficult it would be for Potter to be there. For he would need to be fed on an extremely regular basis, and the blood would have to come from somewhere. Also, since vampires were weak during the day, hence why the slept, the matter still stood as to whether or not Potter would actually be able to attend any of his classes.

"Now, I have been thinking about those problems since his turning into a vampire and I do believe I have a solution, if you would allow me to speak without threat of being hexed?" Minerva, lips tightened to a pencil-thin line, nodded her head curtly, wand hand twitching slightly. "Good. Now, as to Potter being fed, that can be arranged rather easily, as he is already being provided with blood. That is something we can discuss later. As for his being able to walk around in the daytime, as I figure all of his Professors would be against keeping their classrooms that have windows boarded up for the remainder of the year, Herbology most definitely being impossible for him, I have a solution. There is a potion that is quite difficult to brew but I believe I can manage it, that would allow him to walk in the daytime, be in the light for short periods, and stay awake all day."

"What's the catch, Severus?" Minerva didn't seem opposed to the idea, but a tad wary. As she should be, Snape thought.

"The potion isn't exactly known to all potions masters" Minerva didn't seem to be buying what he was selling. "In fact, it is known to no one but those who have been allowed to go through the Malfoy family library looking for potions."

Poppy caught on first. "You mean it's a Dark potion?" Every eye of the Hogwarts staff was glaring at him.

"Well, potions that concern vampires normally are, Poppy. Particularly one that gives a vampire more hours in the day in which to hypothetically feast, which is what it is normally used for." He staved off the uproar from the group with a hand, "Which it will not be used for now. It will merely allow Potter to live what is seen by others to be a normal life. No one at Hogwarts or beyond the safety of its walls can know what Potter is until after he graduates, or there will not only be panic from the Wizarding World but an inquest into Hogwarts itself." Minerva looked shocked. "I was a Headmaster, too, Minerva, do not forget that. I have read the bylaws, and it states that the creature may stay at the school only until the truth about its status as a 'non-human' is revealed."

With that in mind, the staff all agreed to allow Snape to brew his potion.

_Yes!_, he thought, triumphantly.

Snape was ecstatic! He had wanted something difficult to brew for ages, but since the war he was no longer allowed to brew anything darker than Skele-Grow. Now he had this wonderfully complex potion to brew, and on a regular basis! He was most definitely pleased.

The rest of the meeting went by smoothly, Snape agreeing to allow Potter to stay in the room he was currently in the dungeons for at least the next week while he got used to the idea of being a vampire and in time for Snape to finish the potion, the dungeons being the safest place for him due to their lack of sunlight.

Potter would also be reassigned to a room in the dungeons for the rest of his time at Hogwarts. This was because they needed to make sure the students were as safe as possible, and no one, Snape included, felt like cleaning blood up off of the stone floors.

They agreed to have the same person feed him, and, him being the only one actually willing to be around the _vampire_ for extended periods of time, even if the others refused to admit it, agreed to store the blood in Snape's office and, as it seemed to the man in question, just generally have Snape handle everything.

"I was under the impression it was Hagrid's job to take care of the magical creatures here, not mine." Snape was a tad irritated once he realized exactly how much work having Potter stay there would be for him.

"Yes, well Hagrid is off visiting Madame Maxime, so it falls to you. Speaking of Hagrid, as he is not here, he is unaware as to the changes Harry has undergone. Now, I don't want to seem unforgiving, but I do believe it would be better for Harry if we continue to keep this particular information from our groundskeeper. His track record with keeping secrets like this being what it is, I feel it would be far safer for Harry."

The staff all agreed to keep the half-giant out of the loop, for the safety of the school, then disbanded the meeting as half of the staff had classes starting, Potter having chose a weekday to upend everyone's lives.

Snape walked away from the meeting feeling as if he had been talked into doing everything and not liking it one, single bit.

* * *

><p>It was a strange mixture of odd and awkward when everyone left. Harry was still a tad on edge, having had the worst morning of his life. Or rather, his afterlife.<p>

Now, to add to the stress, he was left alone in the room with someone who was very much full of warm, pumping blood, and Harry was still hungry.

Not that Hanley looked particularly appetizing. He was about four inches taller than Harry, had dark brown hair, blue eyes and looked straight off of the cover of a muggle magazine. He looked sort of like he would taste like plastic, though Harry couldn't figure out why…

Or why he was suddenly wondering what the people around him would taste like. That one freaked him out far more than the first.

Harry was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he forgot the Professor was still in the room until he cleared his throat.

Hanley was standing in the doorway, this smile plastered on his face, his gaze alternating between Harry, Harry's bloody bed sheets, the goblet on the table next to him, and back to Harry.

They talked for a bit, about nothing in particular. The weather, how Gryffindor House's Quidditch team looked that year, about Hanley's plans for his classes this next week. It was how they usually talked, Harry was able to pretend his world hadn't just been upended. It was nice.

"So, Harry, enough avoiding the subject, how are you feeling?" Hanley left his spot on the wall and sat in the seat McGonnogall had vacated when she left the room.

_How exactly does a person answer that after having had the day I've had?_ Harry thought, scrambling for an answer that didn't give anything away. He had figured out that Hanley hadn't been told what he was yet when they were all talking before the Professors left for the meeting.

"Erm… I've had better days." He tried to laugh it off but didn't quite manage to. Hanley's smile never faltered.

"Ah, yes, I can imagine so. McGonnogall and Snape may not have told me, Harry, but I can gather that your day, as well as last night, wasn't exactly normal." Hanley kept smiling at Harry, most likely to reassure him. Harry found it off-putting.

Any other time, Hanley's smile wouldn't seem creepy.

This was not one of those times.

Harry and Hanley had been on rather good terms since the beginning of the year. Granted, Harry was suspicious of anyone who would take the Dark Arts post since Carrow last year. That and the track records of the teachers since he started going to Hogwarts wasn't exactly one that had you instilling any sort of trust automatically with someone who bared the title.

But he and Hanley had gotten along swimmingly. Hanley wasn't biased toward Harry or against him, just treated him like a regular student. It was something that Harry found refreshing about him.

Sure, he reminded him more than a little bit of Gilderoy Lockheart, but Harry didn't hold that against the man. He was rather knowledgeable when it came to defense and had told everyone how he had been an Auror for years. Harry trusted in his abilities and had never had a reason not to.

"You can say that again." Harry was trying not to dwell in what had happened. He knew he had the tendency to dwell, had been yelled at by Ron and Hermione more times than he could count for doing just that.

_Wait, _he thought_, Ron and Hermione! Oh, god, what are they gonna say when they find out?_

"Professor, do you know if anyone's told my friends, Ron and Hermione, where I am? That I'm okay, because if I don't show up they get worried after a while."

Hanley nodded, "Yes, Harry, your friends are aware that you had an accident of some kind last night and are being kept somewhere in the castle to heal."

Harry sighed. _Good, at least they won't worry._

"Though, if you ask me, Potter, they probably would be better off thinking you were dead." Harry stared, shocked and not sure how to respond. Hanley had called him Potter. He never called him Potter…

"What are you saying, Professor?" Harry didn't like the vibes he was getting off of this guy.

"I know your secret." If Harry's heart were still beating, he would have felt it stop.

"What do you mean, Professor, what sec-"

"Don't you play dumb with me, Potter, it doesn't suit the new you." Hanley's smile disappeared, replaced with one he could only describe as being "Serious Auror Face." "I know what you are, what you have turned into. Not quite the specifics, but a blind man could tell if he knew what to look for."

Harry didn't know how to react or what to say. He looked around the room, suddenly realizing that he was trapped in that room with this man, no exit but the door, his wand nowhere to be found and a feeling that this would all end badly. For which one, he wasn't sure, and that was the worst part.

He just sat there, feeling dumb and cornered, like an animal.

"What's the matter, Potter? When you have these conversations with Snape, don't you always have a witty retort prepared? Nothing for me?" Hanley was having fun taunting Harry. He could feel something in him start growling.

_I'm not a werewolf, what the hell would be growling?_ Harry thought.

"Listen, Potter, and listen well for I will only say this once: I know what you are, therefore I know what you are capable of. The faculty of this godforsaken school are obviously discussing whether to allow you to continue staying and learning here, and you have them all fooled enough about what kind of person you were for them to say yes. I, however, know what kind of monster you became. You vampires are all the same but the Professors won't be able to see past your being _Harry Potter._ Their idiocy aside, you mark my words, Potter: If you so much as set a fang out of line, I will have you staked through faster than you could say 'Oops.' Capische?"

Harry was more than a tad pissed. _How dare that… that… HUMAN have the audacity to threaten me!_

That was definitely not his normal inner voice talking that time…

Harry was angrier with Hanley than he had been with Snape. At least Snape knew what kind of vampire Harry would be. Nothing compared to this bastard threatening him for nothing! For simply being what he was turned into! He hadn't even done anything yet, to anyone, had never so much as stepped a foot out of this room, had _just_ woken up for Merlin's sake, and the bastard was already threatening to kill him!

As his anger grew, so did his fangs.

Harry could feel his eyes widening as he scooted as far back on the bed as he could, curled at the corner of the cold wall he could feel behind him. He had to get control of it, whatever it was.

_Why control me? _The growling in his head had found a voice, apparently._ After what that human just said to you, what's to stop you defending yourself? What right does he have to say that to you that you don't _also_ have to shut him the hell up?_

_No, I can't- I am not becoming a monster!_ Harry was fighting with himself.

_Become? Believe me, you already are one. _

Hanley was just smiling, watching Harry fall apart. He had to resist every urge within him to bite the bastard in front of him.

_It would be so easy to just leap over there and repay him for his kind words, and you know you're still hungry… _

As Harry was beginning to lose the battle with himself, the door to the room opened, revealing an irritated looking Severus Snape.

Harry reigned himself in when he saw Snape, not wanting to seem weak in front of the man. He would never have heard the end of it.

Besides, Hanley was a problem he could take care of later.

* * *

><p>Snape stalked into his quarters, irritated at having been swindled into taking care of Potter. How do I let myself be put in these situations, he berated himself as he went to the cabinet in the far corner of his small sitting room, taking out the equally small bottle of scotch and pouring himself the smallest drink imaginable in the glass next to it. <em>Not enough to actually feel it, but just enough to feel like the glass was worth it<em>, Snape thought, as usual. He quickly downed the alcohol and, putting everything back as it was, walked to the second door on the left in his quarters, also known as his old store room, now being used as a guest room.

Opening the door, trademark sneer in place, he entered the room that was newly christened as "Potter's Personal Hospital Wing."

He wondered, _again_, how in the hell he had been talked into letting Potter stay there?

Upon noticing Snape enter the room, Hanley turned to look at him, the largest smile plastered on his face, as usual. Snape's sneer increased at that plastic look. _That bastard really needs to learn a new facial expression…_

Potter, on the other hand, went from looking angry, vehement, really, to neutral in a matter of milliseconds. _A quick emotion change even by Potter standards, _Snape thought.

He chose to ignore that, though, figuring it was another one of Potter's "bitchy vampire moments." He certainly had enough of those moments since he had woken up a vampire for them not to seem odd.

Snape would look back on his decision to ignore that one day with regret, ashamed of how blind he was.

* * *

><p>AN: Well, another chapter down. :D<p>

So, what do you all think of my new Defense Teacher? Too cliché?

I swear, actual plot will start soon! xD

Unless you didn't notice that, technically, everything that has happened so far has been set up for the actual story. Then, ya know… just keep being awesome! XD

It would be appreciated if a tiny review could be left. They really do keep me going and are the only reason I stay up until 5 or 6 every morning writing up a storm. This particular storm being more of an "information packed into 5,000 words" storm than the others.

Thank you for reading,

Your thankful writer,

ForeverJynxed


	5. A Pamphlet, A Voice and a Blood Bag

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own or even claim to EVER own anything related to Harry Potter or its affiliates. It all belongs to Jo Rowling and the rights are still the sole property of WB and Scholastic and whatever other companies are in charge of distributing HP books, movies and whatnot. I am only a simple fangirl who had an idea and felt the need to write it down and share it with other fangirls who are of similarly-minded types.**

**Oh, and, in case that one didn't get the gist across: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING! Only the laptop on which this was written and a slight case of insomnia. XD**

AN: ~ducks and dodges the rocks and spoiled vegetables being thrown at her~

Okay, I am sooooo sorry this chapter took so long to post!

I can make excuses till the cows come home, but it really comes down to my not being able to stay up all night working anymore. Long story short, I've been trying to find somewhere to live and a job so it's been stressful over here.

I have wanted nothing more than to be able to work on this again! So, I did! Haha.

I apologize for the wait to the story alerted readers, and say YAY to the new ones.

I love every reader as equally as the next (though, those who leave reviews get a place of honor in my mind, mainly through my taking in their feedback!)

So this chapter is… well, I have absolutely NO idea how this came about. Haha. Essentially, coffee at 3am and writing an accidental, 14,000 word chapter that had to be shortened for the sake of my sanity.

Hoping you'll love the new chapter, or at least like it enough to stop tossing the fruits and vegetables. Seriously, those tomatoes hurt… ~picks some lettuce out of her hair~

See ya in the AN at the end! :D

Yours truly,

ForeverJynxed

* * *

><p><span>The Bloody Lion and the Snarky Snake<span>

Chapter 5: A Pamphlet, A Voice and a Blood Bag

Vampires sleep.

Or, at least they are supposed to sleep.

Harry Potter lay in bed in his borrowed (read: forced to continue to stay in "For his own good") room, still clad in his Hospital Wing pajamas. He had no idea where he was, having only been told it was somewhere in the dungeons. He only figured that out from what Hanley had said and was unwilling to take that as a good enough answer.

That bastard was no longer someone Harry viewed worthy of his time.

When he had asked earlier where he was, after Hanley had thankfully left, Snape just sneered something to the effect of, "Idiot, ungrateful Gryffindor, you don't deserve to know," and slammed the door behind him.

Snape was always _so_ helpful when it came to answering Harry's questions…

Madam Pomfrey was just as unwilling to tell him where he was when she came in with Snape, the only one left after Snape stomping out. She looked him over quickly, then left, announcing she would be back soon.

Several hours passed before the Mediwitch returned, container of blood in hand. Apparently it was now safe for them to leave Harry alone, though what changed, Harry had no idea.

He would have been angrier with her for taking so long, but who could be mad when someone provided them with a goblet full of dinner? Dinner which he- disgusted with himself as to how 'bloody' good it tasted- immediately scarfed down. He doubted he had ever enjoyed something he had eaten when he was alive more than warm, rich blood was now that he was… well, _not_ alive.

The mediwitch smiled brightly at him after he finished eating. "Well, Harry, now that you've eaten, there are a few things I wish to discuss with you." Judging by the look on her face, she was the one who had drawn the short straw on who would have to break the news to the vampire. "First, Minerva wishes for me to inform you that you are not to leave this room-"

"Snape already mentioned that, Madam Pomfrey. In between coming in and growling at me and Hanley leaving."

"_Professor_ Snape and _Professor_ Hanley, please, Mr. Potter." Harry wondered how many more times in his life he was going to be reminded to call people by their titles? "Well, I am glad to hear that you have been kept in the loop, Mr. Potter. It makes my job much easier." Pomfrey's smile was strained. Yeah, easier in that she no longer has to worry about telling a vampire they're being caged. What's the phrase? Don't bite the messenger?

"I am also glad to hear that you and Severus are able to speak now. One step closer to getting along." Harry about laughed hysterically at that joke, never knowing Pomfrey was so funny, but somehow managed to hold it in.

"As I am certain that you are in perfectly good health," Harry seriously doubted that, seeing as he was now _drinking blood_, "Professor Snape will be attending to you from now on." Harry's not-quite-essential-any-longer breath stilled. _Snape is going to be taking care of me? Oh, Merlin, I'm gonna be dead within the week, aren't I? Well, it was a good afterlife while it lasted, I guess…_

Waking up in a strange place, groggy, being told by his professors he had been attacked the night before, dying, coming back to life, drinking strange liquids and an unearned death threat. Oh, and that's not including learning Snape was now responsible for his well-being. _Yep, sounds like a normal day to me._

Pomfrey somehow managed to mistake his look of grim, somewhat complacent, horror for a happy acceptance of the news. "I'm glad you hear you have no objections to this," _Oh, I'll give her objections,_ Harry's thoughts growled, "and would like to inform you that you are bound by Wizarding Law to go over this handy little pamphlet," she handed him a small, violet colored, folded pamphlet.

Harry took it warily. On the front, in blood red lettering, it said, "Ministry of Magic Rules and Regulations for Magical Creatures: Vampire Edition." Underneath that bland statement, in curled, cursive writing it stated, "So You've Just Been Turned into a Vampire, Now What?"

Harry assumed this pamphlet would be about as helpful as the lists they gave out during the war. Nothing the Ministry ever created was even so much as _sub-standard_, never quite managing to make it to that _level of quality_.

How often was Harry going to be told he was stupid, deranged or not human by something the Ministry produced?

Cringing at the words "Magical Creatures," Harry set the pamphlet down and turned to see Pomfrey smiling down at him, having gathered all of her potions back onto the cart she had brought with her. "Well, now, just give that a little read and it should be just enough to lull you to sleep."

She turned to leave as Harry stopped her, "What do you mean, sleep?"

She turned with a tut, "Now, Mr. Potter, you can't stay up all day. You need your rest." Harry looked at her, confused. She read his reaction correctly for once. "Yes, even vampires sleep." That was the first time she had said the word to him. He preferred she go back to saying "your kind." "Now, lay down and get comfortable and try to sleep, Mr. Potter. Now, before you ask, sleeping potions don't work on beings who can only survive on blood, so I can't help you there." Pomfrey looked honestly sorry for this fact.

Despite all of the coddling he was forced to take from her, Harry still had rather a large amount of respect for this woman.

Even still, Harry was pouting. "I'm not even tired."

Pomfrey smiled, "Well, if you're not now, then you most certainly will be around dawn, I can assure you that. Now, the sun is coming up soon, so read up before it happens, or you may never finish it in time." Harry responded with something noncommittal and Pomfrey seemed to remember something.

"Now I know I already said this, but I want to remind you once more that you are not to wander the halls, not under any circumstances." Harry looked as bored as possible, not showing how much he knew that was going to annoy him. Pomfrey brightened, "Well, that's that. Get to reading, Mr. Potter, and have a good day's rest."

With a nod, she backed out of the small room, taking her tray with her and leaving Harry alone in the darkness with only that violet pamphlet and his thoughts to keep him company.

So, there he was, lying on "his" bed and just… thinking.

Thousands of questions ran through Harry's head after Pomfrey left, least of which was the worry that Snape was now in charge of him being fed. He assumed he would be left in there to rot if that were truly the case.

_Thanks a lot, Pomfrey, _he thought with his usual out of nowhere spite,_ I wonder how long it took her to pass the buck to him? One minute or two?_

_Professors wanting nothing to do with me, not talking to anyone, and worst of all, not being allowed to wander the halls? I knew it,_ he thought with a sigh, flopping gracelessly onto the bed, _being dead is gonna suck._

Pun not intended.

To be honest, he was worried. He would never admit it aloud, but he had been nothing but worried about what was going to happen to him since he awoke to find out he was a vampire. So many unanswered questions as to what he was going to do now lingered in the back of his thoughts, making sleep impossible.

He sighed. Figuring the pamphlet would at least be good for a laugh, he decided he may as well read it. Harry took an earned moment of awe to marvel at how he was able to not only see the pamphlet in the dark, without his glasses, but read what was on it as well. _Hmm, the whole night-vision thing explains why vampires are so good at hunting at night,_ he thought, dissociating himself somewhat from the fanged creatures he learned about in school. He still wasn't completely ready to think of himself as one. Say it, yes, but never admit it to himself.

_You'll have to eventually,_ the little voice in his head kept reminding him. He had yet to admit to himself what he knew that voice, that anti-conscience, to truly be, either.

Grimacing at the violet color, wondering why in the name of all that was magic the Ministry had everything that color, Harry opened up the tri-folded pamphlet.

Inside, in that same, rather annoying, blood red color, were a list of apparent rules and guidelines.

"So You've Been Turned Into a Vampire, Now What?

If you are reading this pamphlet, then it is safe to assume that you've been turned into a vampire. You may be asking yourself, what do I do now? Well, first thing's first. Be certain to check whether or not a vampire is what you have really become. Go near a cross or some garlic. Are you irritated by either of these things? How about sunlight? Did that burn?

If you said yes to these three things, then you are either most definitely a vampire, or you are simply allergic to garlic, sensitive to sunlight, and an atheist. If the latter is correct, see the "So You Mistook Yourself to be a Vampire Again, Now What?" pamphlet which should be located next to this one, available in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic.

The most surefire test of vampiric identity is what we at the Ministry call: the Mirror Test. Simply stand in front of one. Do you have a reflection? If no, continue reading. If yes, see above-mentioned pamphlet and go to page 3.

Now that you have determined that you are, beyond the shadow of a doubt, a vampire-"

Harry couldn't read any more, too dumbfounded at the sheer level of idiocy the Ministry had managed.

_Honestly, who's responsible for writing this bullshit?_ Harry thought, truly laughing for the first time since he had been turned.

Deciding, for the safety of his ribs, which were already hurting from laughing at how dumb that pamphlet was so far, Harry decided he would just skip to the actual advice section.

Something in him, mainly a certain little voice, knew that what he would find wasn't going to be as hilarity-inducing as the first portion.

The first third of it was merely stating what he now was. It covered all the bases, using key phrases like, "Nosferatu," "Vampyr," "lives on blood," "allergic to garlic," "able to be killed by a wooden stake through the heart," and "Nocturnal by nature, the sun known to weaken the vampire as well as eventually set it on fire if exposed to enough of it."

_Those last few makes this sound more like a how-to guide for killing vampires,_ Harry thought, little inner voice ringing with vindication momentarily, no longer laughing.

He looked over the rest of the pamphlet, the word "stake" being used more often than any other word. He gulped. This isn't going to be good.

"Vampire Rules and Guidelines As Laid Out By the Ministry of Magic

1. As a result of Laws and Decrees filed and passed in this, the year of 1997, the guidelines in the regard of the Magical Creature classified "Vampire" are as follows:

2. Any vampire caught wandering the streets in the daytime, even if fully obscured by clothing, shall be set into the sunlight.

3. Any vampire caught outside during the daytime in an area where humans are the main inhabitants, shall be set into the sunlight.

4. Any use of vampire saliva in potions or out: the wizard shall get three months in Azkaban Prison, the vampire that it was procured from shall be staked through the heart."

5. Any vampire found biting a human being, i.e. fangs piercing the skin of a human for reasons of blood-consumption, shall be staked through the heart.

6. Any vampire caught harming a human, i.e. murder, fighting, so called "self-defense," shall be staked through the heart.

7. Any vampire caught trying to commingle species with a human, i.e. marriage or common-law bonding, shall be staked through the heart.

Harry reread the laws. Everything ended in death. _Hell, even eating means death for a vampire_! Harry's mind was raging.

He was completely in awe of this. He never remembered learning anything like this when they covered vampires in class, and certainly never heard anything about these laws or guidelines or whatever the fuck the Ministry was trying to pass these bullshit rules off as being.

Harry had thought he was under strict enough rules when Voldemort was at large, but this was ridiculous! He couldn't do _anything_. He could barely step out of the castle without either starving from not being able to eat, all forms of procuring blood being outlawed, or being killed for trying to stay alive!

In a fit of rage, Harry shredded the pamphlet. Little scraps of violet, red letters glinting here and there, flew around the room as he threw the pieces away from him. He didn't want to look at his death tri-folded death sentence.

He had enough on his mind to begin with, that damned thing only gave him more to worry about.

He was no longer a wizard. He had been demoted to "Magical Creature" thanks to a blood-thirsty vampire and a wandering do-gooder vampire screwing with his life!

_I can't even be turned into a vampire without everyone else making my life decisions for me!_ He snarled and leapt from the bed, unable to sit still anymore. He wanted to do something. He wanted to go run, maybe maul something…

He paced around the room, feeling more the caged animal than ever before.

_That's what I am now,_ he thought with another, deeper snarl, _nothing more than an animal. A creature._

_A Magical Creature._ Harry stopped in his tracks, frozen as if someone had hit "Pause" on his remote control.

_Magical. Can I still do magic? Where's my wand?_ He looked around, frantically searching for that length of wood he had gone through hell and back to get repaired.

After thoroughly sacking the room, he realized it wasn't there.

_Why wouldn't it be here?,_ he thought, panicking.

He needed his wand.

_Where would it be?_ He racked his brain for where it could have been hidden. Then, something caught his attention. A noise. In the silence, he listened.

He could hear something. Something was making sounds, something just on the outskirts of his hearing. _No, not something, _he thought, _some_one.

Then another voice, deeper this time.

_Voices,_ he thought. _I hear voices._

He went to the door, slowly creeping toward it. Putting his ear against the door, he listened.

As clear as if he were on the other side of the door, a part of the conversation, he heard Snape and McGonnogall talking.

Snape scoffed, something clinking as he did it, like porcelain on porcelain. _Maybe he's drinking tea? _Harry thought, listening closely. It seemed like something Snape would do, casually sitting on the other side of a door from a vampire, pretending nothing had happened. Because the vampire didn't matter. "Honestly, Minerva, I don't see why you worry so much. The boy hasn't even realized it's missing."

McGonnogall sounded impatient. "Yes, Severus, but when he does-"

"When he does, we will return it to him in due time. Before that, Potter's wand will have to stay where it is-"

Not wanting to wait another syllable, Harry threw open the door, wrenching it from the doorway so hard it slammed against the stone wall, surprising the occupants of the other room.

Madam Pomfrey's hand shot over her heart, "Mr. Potter, you gave me a fright!" Her eyes narrowed, "What are you doing out of bed?"

Not really taking in where he was, Harry yelled a tad too loudly for the small space. "Where is my wand?"

Snape, sitting calmly with a cup of tea, Harry only slightly registered that he had been correct, in a small, black leather chair on the other side of the room, replied in a bored voice, "It is away, Potter, for safe keeping."

_What?_ Harry couldn't understand why they would have his wand locked up. "What do you mean, safe keeping? Safe keeping from what?"

McGonnogall was sitting in a similar chair to Snape's, speaking calmly, obviously trying to diffuse the situation before Harry freaked out too much. _Too late for that one, _Harry thought. "It is tucked away somewhere safe, Harry, I can assure you. Now why don't you go back in your room, it must be well past time for you to be sleeping already-"

"I will not leave until I know where my wand is!"

Snape rolled his eyes, "Honestly, Potter, it's not like we snapped the thing in half and burned it, just set it in another room until we knew for certain that-"

"That what? That I was trustworthy? That I wasn't some blood-thirsty, raging monster who would use it to attack all of the students?" Harry was panting with rage, boiling up within him and spewing at the adults in the room. _They're keeping my wand safely kept away from ME! How dare they?_

Snape snorted derisively, "Actually, Potter, I was going to say until we were certain that you could actually use it." Harry blinked stupidly at him for a few moments, deflating slightly. Snape sighed and set down the tea he was holding, "Not all vampires can actually use magic, Potter. Most of them are muggles when they are turned, and some wizards lose the ability to perform spells once they are no longer deemed wizards. They are rendered magicless and are, for all intents and purposes, squibs. While that is a very, very small portion of the newly-turned beings, we figured it would be better safe than sorry to assume that your penchant for being within those small percentages would hold true in this case as well."

"Let me get this straight, you kept my wand from me because you thought I wouldn't be able to use it?" That made no sense! "Wouldn't the easiest way to test that be to GIVE ME MY WAND?"

McGonnogall and Pomfrey looked shocked by Harry's behavior. He could hear the tea cup in Pomfrey's hand rattling on the plate she was holding it against.

Snape looked bored again. "Yes, Potter, your idea is perfect. Why not allow a newly born vampire, still unsure as to what he was, emotions running high, for whom the smallest things set him off, find out the hard way that he is no longer able to perform magic while in a castle full of underage students who have no idea what he is. Brilliant, Potter, you should write for the Prophet with that pithy, logical brain of yours."

Harry felt sufficiently cowed. Sighing, he leaned against the doorframe, defeated. "I understand. I- Sorry for freaking out, Professor McGonnogall."

Snape looked only a bit affronted that the apology was only directed to the Headmistress.

"Why, that's certainly alright, Harry. It is rather understandable at this juncture for you to be a bit… unstable as far as your emotions are concerned." She said it with a slight smile, which softened the blow for Harry.

Though, being told by your Headmistress that you're an emotionally unstable vampire is a difficult blow to soften. McGonnogall managed it rather well.

Harry started feeling dizzy. It was the first time he had stood since he had awoke as a vampire earlier that night. Holding himself up, he tried to save face as much as possible. "Thank you for understanding, Headmistress. It's been a hard night." He laughed wryly, meaning every word. "I'll just go and try to get some sleep now."

Madam Pomfrey took over at that point, seeming to get over her shock and go back into "Matron Mode." "Mr. Potter, what did I tell you about getting up out of bed?"

Harry racked his brain. "Um… nothing, Madam Pomfrey."

She rolled her eyes, bustling toward him from across the room, "Not today, Mr. Potter, in general. You know the rule with me is you either stay in bed of your own accord or I _spell you to it_."

_How is it that even though I'm a vampire, feared creature of the night, Pomfrey's glares still manage to terrify me?_ Harry followed her orders immediately and, tripping slightly on the way, scrambled back into the bed.

"Feeling a bit peaky?" Harry looked up at her, eyes wide. "Ah, yes, Mr. Potter, I can tell." She cast a Tempus charm and tutted at the time. "Hmm, the sun should just now have come up, so you should be feeling lethargic, slow and even a tad tired?"

Harry thought about it. He _was_ feeling tired. It was like his strength had been zapped out of him. Harry nodded.

Pomfrey smiled, "Don't worry, dear, it's a perfectly normal reaction for vampires. Now, then, I trust you will _stay in this bed_, Mr. Potter, and sleep for the rest of the day. If you require anything, simply ask Professor Snape."

Harry was able to contain the question until the Mediwitch was halfway out the door. "How do I ask Snape?"

"Professor Snape can be contacted by simply stepping outside this door, provided he is not in a class or overseeing a detention." Pomfrey looked as if she wanted nothing more than to leave the room now. Harry had one more question.

"How'd you get Snape to agree to lurk outside my door all day?"

Pomfrey smiled and turned to exit the room. As the door was shutting, Harry heard her say, "Well, it's hardly lurking outside the door if the door leads to his sitting room, now is it?"

* * *

><p>Needless to say, Harry didn't venture outside of his room after that.<p>

It was bad enough having Snape looking after him, but to find out that the room he was in was, in fact, the spare room in _Snape's personal quarters_? They may as well have just staked him through the heart then and there.

Knowing it was better for his health to stay inside the room, Harry had no choice but to lie down on the borrowed bed and attempt to sleep. He was anything but excited about the prospect of sleeping. Sleep was never a positive subject with him. Not since the war.

It was much harder to sleep, he found out rather quickly, when you can't keep your brain from shutting off. He would close his eyes and see the vampire who bit him or an odd, moving flame.

Thinking calmly for the first time since he found out he was the "v" word, he realized that it appeared that the most similar thing between his human and vampire selves was an inability to sleep. He wondered if the consequences would be similar…

He registered slightly that Pomfrey or someone had trimmed his hair while he was unconscious. Though, he probably had a much smaller chance of waking up with long hair this time, being stuck the way he is now.

Harry groaned. He hadn't thought of that yet, hadn't let the thought form and now here he was, feeling sorry for himself. He would be 18 for the rest of his life. Which, because he was now immortal, would be a pretty damned long time.

_Figures,_ he thought, hitting his pillow a little too hard and curling in on himself on the bed, _Voldemort and his quest for immortality made me grow up way too soon and now I'm not only immortal but unable to grow up any more. Brilliant._

With all of his might, he forced himself to stop thinking. It worked for the most part. He just stared at a spot on the stone wall, watching as it tended to change shape based on how he looked at it. He found out then that Vampires didn't really have to blink all that much. At least now he could finally win staring contests with Crookshanks. Provided the cat let him be in the same room as him now that he was no longer human…

Thoughts of Crookshanks led to thoughts of Ron and Hermione, and those were dangerous things for him at that particular moment. He wished, for the thousandth time in his life, feeling like it was the last thing he always thought before sleeping, that he could be anyone but himself. Being Harry Potter wasn't exactly a walk in the park.

More like a running, leaping, sprint through the park, being chased by a pack of rabid werewolves during the full moon.

Werewolves sans Wolfsbane potion.

But filled with the same bloodlust Harry was now cursed with.

Much to Harry's surprise, he found himself falling asleep about an hour or two later. Sure, he only slept for what felt like five minutes, which were in reality six hours, but it was sleep and that was far more than he gotten when he was human.

Maybe the whole vampire thing wouldn't be that bad. He had yet to have a single dream as one, so that was a win in his book.

Harry awoke and, somehow, knew he had hours left till the daylight ended.

He wondered how he could possibly know that, being trapped inside a room in the dungeons. In there, surrounded by stone walls, not even a candle to light the small space, daylight seemed as far away as the sun it came from.

Though, when he thought about it, he could feel how weak he was in comparison to how rejuvenated he had felt during the night. Daytime was apparently not the part of the day when vampires were at the top of their game.

_Hmm, _he thought,_ vampires are affected by the daylight even when they're not actually in it. Weird._

He noticed something was tickling his cheek. Reaching up, he felt that his hair had, in fact, grown again as he slept. It seemed he had been wrong about that little quirk stopping at vampire. He didn't really think about why it hadn't happened when he had slept the first time, before waking up to find he was a vampire. A vampire whose hair apparently still grew in his sleep…

Harry had admittedly little to no knowledge when it came to vampires. Though, he could have sworn, despite what the confetti'd pamphlet had said, that they weren't classified as "Magical Creatures" but as "Beings." Well, "Non-Wizard Part-Humans" or something like that. He vaguely remembered Percy saying something about it what seemed like eons ago.

Beings or Creatures, whichever they were, Harry was now one of them. He hated this feeling, not being human. He just wanted everything to go back to the way it was.

Everything was different to him now. It was like his life had already segmented itself into two: Before Being Bitten and… after. After had only started two days ago yet seemed like so much longer.

He wanted his life before being bitten back. He wanted his friends, sunlight, to be out on the Quidditch pitch riding his Firebolt instead of bolted into a room (an extra precaution Snape had added after Harry had slammed the door open earlier, a note Harry had found next to his bed saying he would undo it when the sun went back down).

Then again, was Before Being Bitten really all that great? He thought back to his life before being turned…

First there was the whole Voldemort debacle. That didn't need any more thought given to it. It had already taken up enough of his mind's time nowadays. Besides, it was now over and the world, as well as Harry, was better off without it.

Harry had lived in a sort of half-life after the war ended, though. He kept waking up each morning, after having a fitful sleep, plagued by never ending nightmares. They were worse because they weren't just nightmares. They were memories. It was like his brain had turned itself into a Pensieve, but only turned into it at night and was filled with nothing but the memories of the deaths of his friends and family.

That was the first month. After that, sleep just stopped being an option altogether.

He hadn't been sleeping, was cranky, and was taking it all out on his friends. Ron and Hermione had understood for the most part, being apparently "used to it" by then, but Ginny had only taken it up to a certain point. After which she stated that she wasn't going to date him if all he did was take his anger out on her. He snapped at her and she dumped him on the spot.

He didn't blame her, though. He was finding it more and more difficult to be in a relationship with her. She was more of a sister than a potential life mate to him. Especially now.

He thought about what Ron and Hermione would really say when they found out what he was. Well, Hermione's reaction was predictable enough. She would run to the library, intent on doing as much research into vampires as she could. Ron would probably just gawk at him for a while, unable to form actual sentences. He knew they would accept him eventually, but a small part of him worried that they may not.

That he had become too different. Too… freakish.

_You're a freak._ His relatives' voices floated, unbidden into his mind. For once, they were right.

His stomach rumbled. He was hungry. He had been told he would need to eat after waking up, someone had said something but he couldn't remember who or when. Thinking stopped at the hunger that was steadily sinking into him.

He was a freak. He drank blood and could see in the dark. Hell, for all he knew he could outrun a speeding bullet and leap tall buildings in a single bound, too.

_Wait, no, that's Superman…_ Harry thought, shaking his head, trying to force out the stupid thoughts.

_I'm not a freak. I am _not_ a freak. I am NOT a freak._

I AM NOT A FREAK!

No matter how many times he thought it, he couldn't seem to make himself believe it.

Angry again, he leapt from the bed and started prowling around the room as he had done the previous night. For some reason, probably to do with his new hunter instincts, prowling came naturally to him. The repetitive pacing just the balm his restless mind needed.

_Prowling around the room like a captured animal,_ his inner voice was taunting him again for the second day in a row. _How the mighty have fallen._

Even his mind was turning on him. He felt his stomach grumble again and couldn't take it anymore. He had to do something!

He punched the door. Half-expecting to find a crack where the wood and his fist had connected, Harry took a step back, away from it, breathing heavily.

He was hungry, and he was angry. _Thank Merlin I'm in here by myself,_ Harry thought, sighing. He didn't trust himself now, not since becoming a vampire. His emotions changed so quickly and he became so consumed by them, he was afraid he might just wind up biting someone if given the chance. His eyes found the confetti on the ground without his permission. _What did that pamphlet say would happen if I did that? Oh, right. I'd be killed. _He sighed.

He had had the threat of death looming over him before. At least this time he knew how to keep it at bay.

Though, if he were honest with himself, it seemed like death wanted nothing to do with him. "Neither can live while the other survives," he whispered it sardonically into the quiet of the room. _Yeah? Well, the other didn't survive, and you STILL managed to get me killed, fate! How's that for a self-fulfilling prophecy._

_Neither lived, but only one survived._

Harry needed something to get him out of his grim thoughts.

A knock came just then at the door. Harry flew to the bed, afraid for a moment that it would be Madam Pomfrey.

No such luck for Harry. Snape opened the door, frustration etched in every line on his face. "Care to explain what that banging I just heard was, Potter?"

"Hello to you, too, Snape." Harry was suddenly very aware of the fact that Snape was filled with blood.

Hot, fresh, pumping blood.

"That's Professor, Potter. You'd think after seven years that would have sunk in, but I guess you are just too thick headed for the idea to get past your skull and into your brain." Snape took a step or two farther into the room and Harry froze, resisting the urge to crouch and prepare to pounce on Snape.

_Oh, Merlin, "pounce on Snape." Now those are three words nobody should ever use in that order._ Harry's squeamish thoughts weren't enough to distract him from the urge, though.

"Don't come any farther into the room, Snape." His voice was a low, threatening growl.

Snape's left eyebrow raised. "Are you threatening me, Potter? You are, no doubt, aware that you are in _my _quarters and therefore I may do as I please. Contrary to popular belief, not everything is under the ruling of St. Potter-" He had taken a step farther into the room while he was talking, close enough for Harry to reach him if he gave in to the urge to attack…

"It's not a threat, it's a warning!" _Wow, it is rather difficult to talk with fangs in my mouth_, Harry thought oddly. He could feel his eyes widening, his muscles tensing, everything in him preparing for a kill.

Snape caught on when Harry hissed at him, baring his fangs. "Ah. I see you've awoken hungry yet again, Potter. Here," he reached into his robes and pulled out a plastic pouch like the ones Harry had seen in muggle hospitals (mostly on the Dursley's telly), filled with a red liquid he would now recognize anywhere, "I took the liberty of bringing you some breakfast. Bon appetit." The drawl was sarcastic, but Harry didn't care, throwing all manners out the window, he swiped the bag from Snape in a quick motion, immediately biting into the IV bag with his fangs, ripping a corner of it off like he would rip into someone's throat.

Harry could feel his face covered in blood, could feel it dripping down his chin, getting stuck in the edges of his lengthened hair, and knew he should slow down at least a tad, but he couldn't stop a satisfied moan when the blood hit his tongue.

Something deep in Harry told him how horrifying what he was doing was, but he couldn't make himself care. Not while that delicious elixir was sliding down his throat.

"Ugh, Potter. Congratulations, you have officially put me off my appetite." Snape shot him a disgusted look as Harry just waved with his open hand for him to leave, too involved in his task to so much as look up at the Potions Master.

_How the mighty have fallen, indeed,_ the voice in his head purred, finally sated from the crimson liquid sliding down Harry Potter's throat.

"Shut up," Harry said quietly to the empty room. He lowered the plastic container, now drained of its contents. He was now coated in blood and couldn't seem to muster that same sense of horror he knew he should feel.

_You can't deny me any longer. I am a part of you, Harry. I _am_ you,_ the voice roared triumphantly as Harry began licking the blood from his fingers, cleaning it off of his face, reveling in the taste, the feel.

The blood.

"Just leave me alone. Monster."

_Never._

* * *

><p>AN: Aaaand we're back.<p>

I know, it's an odd place to leave it but I have my reasons!

…. Mainly that it was a nice place to end it, it being where I had segmented it earlier, and I realized that it was midway between what was originally a 14,000 word chapter that I decided worked better when split into two. XD

It just sort of worked out that way, so expect the next update to be in a more timely fashion once I get another chance to edit it! :D

As usual, I love each and every person who reads this. Even if you hate what you read, I still love that you graced my words with your presence.

If you did, in fact, enjoy what you read, then please feel free to stop off and send in a review. They make me happy and also extremely guilty for not posting sooner. Thus, the more you review, the guiltier I feel and the sooner you get updates! xD

So, I shall see you in the reviews!

Until the next chapter,

The writer who really does feel horrible for how long this update took,

ForeverJynxed

*insert heart here*


	6. Conversation With a Vampire

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own or even claim to EVER own anything related to Harry Potter or its affiliates. It all belongs to Jo Rowling and the rights are still the sole property of WB and Scholastic and whatever other companies are in charge of distributing HP books, movies and whatnot. I am only a simple fangirl who had an idea and felt the need to write it down and share it with other fangirls who are of similarly-minded types.**

**Oh, and, in case that one didn't get the gist across: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING! Only the laptop on which this was written and a slight case of insomnia. XD**

**AN: **Oh, my goodness everyone, I'm sorry for the wait!  
>But I moved! … again! XD<br>This time from one house to another.

Loooong story, summed up with my life has been hectic. Haha.

But, in honor of school starting today, I figured I owed you all an update, and since I had this next bit sort of sitting in my back pocket, I figured I would treat you all. :D

For those of you who started school, hope you have a good school year! For those of you who didn't: Lucky you. :[

Haha.

I hope this chapter is up to your standards.

I had a few moments where I wondered if I shouldn't just delete it all and start over, that is how insane the past, well, three months, have been for me. XD  
>Again, I hope you enjoy the chapter and I'll see you in the Author's note at the end! :D<p>

Yours truly,

ForverJynxed

* * *

><p>Chapter 6: Conversation With a Vampire <p>

Snape was left with a mixture of disgust and an odd respect for Potter as he closed the door behind him.

Certainly, he had just essentially mauled a plastic square full of blood, but he had done it with such a reckless abandon that Snape was couldn't help but be impressed.

Still disgusted, but impressed nonetheless.

He had been sitting in his usual chair, correcting abysmal Fourth Year essays, when his peaceful silence was broken by the sound of what could only have been a fist hitting the other side of the door to his spare room. Incensed at the reckless disregard for the sanctity of his possessions that Potter was showing, he had finished the essay he was reading- after all, why stop the red scrawling when one is on a roll?- crossed the room, cursed his forethought in adding that blasted bolt to the door, knocked for appearances sake, and thrown said door open, prepared to lecture Potter as he usually would, but was instead threatened.

Potter had corrected it as being a warning, but Snape knew what it really was. The last time he had left that room, Harry Potter had been its only occupant. Now? The boy was sharing it with a fanged beast.

He could see Potter wanting nothing more than to have him for breakfast, but stopping himself. He had never known a vampire to be all that forgiving when it came to mealtime, so Potter was an intriguing study.

_Then again, Potter always has been one of those self-sacrificing, martyr type, _Snape thought_. He would probably starve to death if we didn't feed him. The dunderhead would be too afraid to injure someone or, Merlin forbid, bite them. _Sneering at his mocking thoughts, Snape went back to his chair and continued his earlier task.

_It really was the most cruel twist of fate for Potter to have been dealt the Vampire themed deck he was,_ Snape thought. He grimaced, congratulating a student, yet again, for their successful attempt at murdering the English language.

_After all, of any student in this school that would be the least likely to welcome being turned into a blood-thirsty non-wizard being, Potter was the top of the list_. Snape couldn't help but think that Potter may well have _been_ _the entire list._ He snarled at the next essay. How many times must he remark on how hellebore was not only being butchered in spelling multiple times in this insult of an essay, but was not in the potion they were supposed to be discussing to begin with?

Then there was the difference in Potter's appearance. Snape had noticed it as the light filled the room, but hadn't gotten a chance to broach the topic with Potter before he went feral.

In the place of his usual short, if unkempt and mop-like, black hair was long, still managing to be unkempt, black hair. It was how Snape had found Potter looking when he found him in the alleyway, laying in a puddle of his own blood.

Shaking off the memory, not wanting to go down that particular alleyway, in both thought as well as actuality, he tried to change the subject, but his thoughts had other ideas. Snape was curious to say the least as to why Potter's appearance had changed. More importantly, _how?_

Potter was without a wand. Snape knew that for certain, the 11-inch piece of wood being locked in the cabinet where he stores his rare potion ingredients, that Potter was without a wand. So, that begged the question, how the hell had Potter managed to perform magic without it? And why would he waste any managed use of magic on changing his hair of all things?

Snape was pulled from his thoughts, more questions than answers, by an alarm tinkling from the other room. It was time to check on his potion.

Trying not to show his giddiness in an outward fashion, still being Snape even in the privacy of his own rooms, never quite knowing exactly who or what could be looking in on him, he walked to his workroom door.

It was a very crucial stage in the potion he was brewing and Snape had to be quite punctual in his execution, so had set alarms to ensure his success.

Snape was trying a very mild form of the potion he was to brew for Potter on a regular basis. This, if brewed correctly, which Snape was assured it would be, would allow Potter to walk in the sunlight for as long as attending his classes would require.

It was a potion under the category of "Dark Arts," but was not the one Snape had originally petitioned to his fellow faculty members to produce. Mainly because that one took at least a month to brew, two if it was botched in any way, Snape had chosen this lesser, but still dark, version to brew as a sort of launching point from which to work with Potter. Vampires weren't meant to walk in the daylight, so Snape had no idea what the full potion would do to Potter, having never had the chance to test said potion.

Merlin forbid it turn Potter into some sort of blood-thirsty monster, Snape thought. An image of Potter attacking the blood bag entered Snape's mind, only instead of a plastic bag it was some third year Hufflepuff. He shuddered.

He really had to stop abusing his third year Hufflepuffs in his hypotheticals. They were creepy enough to him in real life without his imagining them being drained by Potter of all people.

Or, he smirked at thought, the potion could turn him into a vampire as docile as a third year Hufflepuff. That one would be rather hilarious in his personal opinion.

Thus a new hypothetical was born.

Also, this alternate potion was an extremely complicated, fickle potion, which Snape was enjoying brewing far too much for his own good.

He took his usual place behind the percolating cauldron and, with a glass rod, stirred the potion exactly thirty times, five clockwise, one counterclockwise, repeating for the rest of the counts. It was therapeutic for Snape, the art of potion making. Everything was so precise, so perfect, yet if one, small step was ignored or a stir missed, it would all fall to pieces. It seemed the perfect allegory to his life, but he tended to ignore the metaphorical implications to his love of potions. They only caused him to brood.

On the final stir, Snape stopped, waiting with bated, if certain of himself, breath. Sure enough, five seconds later, the potion went from its murky, swamp color to a perfect, opaque white. It looked like liquid pearls.

Or like something that Snape was far too much of an adult, mature male to even so much as finish the thought. He wasn't, after all, one of the dunderheads he taught.

He, at least, had standards.

That and a serious inability to get the broomstick out of his arse and laugh at a good joke. Or so his Slytherins tended to remind him at every possible turn.

Then receive the necessary detention.

He checked the potion book again, squinting through the age of the pages. Finding his spot in the brewing, right next to the picture of a person having their throat torn completely from their body by a vampire. Paying no mind to the illustration, having seen worse in real life, Snape read the next line of instructions-

And almost swallowed his own tongue with how sharply he inhaled. He had not realized that particular step was already called for, some time having passed without his knowledge or acceptance, it would seem. He gritted his teeth and steeled himself for his next potion ingredient to be collected:

The saliva of the vampire on which the potion was to be used.

With a sigh, he paused his brewing, the step he dreaded still having to be completed or everything he had done would be a waste of time. Snape cast a Stasis Charm over the potion, knowing it wouldn't react to the magic, and walked out of his workroom. The bubble of euphoria and happiness that finally being able to lose himself in brewing again had caused had popped. As if a certain teenage vampire had popped it with one of his fangs.

_Damned Potter. Why does it always have to be him?_ Snape was annoyed.

Slowly, he slid the bolted lock on the door to the side, freeing it to open. Thinking only about how much he didn't want to have to do this, how difficult it was to harvest things to begin with, let alone them being the saliva of one of his students, and being thankful, once again, that he always carried empty potions vials, Snape knocked once purely out of propriety before opening the door (read: barging in) to the room.

Potter was lying on the bed, hair as long as he had seen it earlier, appearing to be sated from his liquid breakfast. The remnant of said breakfast lay on the small table beside the bed, looking meek and in dire need of a _Reparo _right about now.

Those emerald eyes, seeming a darker shade than usual in the small light that the open door afforded the room, moved to look at Snape. The teen then sighed, sitting up on the bed, practically bouncing. _I am going to have to look into when these damned mood swings will end. If not for my own sanity, then for the sake of my not being sacked for staking a student,_ Snape thought, glowering at the peppy, well-fed, teen.

"Thought you were Pomfrey," Potter seemed to bounce again, looking unsure for a moment before rolling his eyes and tilting his head, motioning for Snape to come further into the room. "Come on in. Don't worry, I won't bite. I'm already full." After that pathetic attempt at humor, Potter just smirked, seemingly at his assumed wit. Snape, wanting nothing more than to snap back at him, unfortunately needed his cooperation, so held his tongue.

He walked into the room, into _his_ own room in _his _quarters, by the _invitation_ of a _vampire_.

As far as Snape was concerned, the world could go back to its usual level of insanity at any point.

Snape returned to the wooden chair he had conjured the day before. He stopped momentarily before sitting and brushed off what looked like small, purple scraps of paper from the chair. He turned to Potter and raised an eyebrow.

Potter just shrugged in response, averting his eyes from the mess he had obviously made. The Professor chose to drop the subject for now. Though if the teen thought he was going to get out of having to clean it up at some point, he had another think coming.

Slytherin's do _not_ clean up after others.

Settling himself in the chair, Snape looked at Potter. He couldn't see him quite as clearly as he would have liked, the teen only being lit by the light of the door that Snape had left open. He was pale, obviously, but he didn't look like he was having any trouble seeing Snape from his spot in the darkness. Snape took in how odd seeing Potter without his trademark glasses was and decided he would have to remedy that before sending Potter back to his friends.

After all, what would tip everyone off that Potter had changed more than his coming back without that bit of wire and glass, armed with perfect vision?

Silence reigned in that small room as the two raven-haired men sat and stared at one another. Snape didn't quite know how to broach the subject, and Potter seemed like he just didn't want to talk.

Snape cleared his throat. "So, Potter, adjusting well?" Each syllable physically pained him to speak. It was such a plebian, clichéd thing to ask someone. Severus Snape was neither of those things.

That and it was rather obvious how the vampire's adjusting was going. The crack in his door he could just see beside him and the mood swings were clues enough into the current state of the teen's psyche.

_That and he is now forced to live off of the blood of others and stay forever in the darkness. It is not as if he is holding in the urge to run laps of joy around the Quidditch Pitch, _Snape thought with a rarely felt pang of pity for the teen sitting opposite him.

Potter looked like he had just been told he had a nargle on his head. _Merlin help me, Lovegood has managed to get those invented creatures committed to my memory. Next thing you know I'll be hunting for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and holding campfire reveries with the Hufflepuffs. _Snape's thoughts shuddered.

"Um, pretty good, I guess." Potter shifted uncomfortably on the bed.

"'Well,'" Snape corrected him.

"What?"

"'Well.' The word you are searching for is 'well,' not 'good.' That aside, you are lying, Potter, and you are doing your usual poor job at it." Snape had let out the insult before he could stop himself.

He got his ears babbled off by an irritated vampire.

"Lying? Oh, why would I be lying? I'm perfectly chipper. Everything is tops, what would make you think it's not? Adjusting to being dead has been a piece of fucking cake! I'm eighteen and my life has officially ended. I fought in a war, defeated a noseless asshole and the moment I get the chance to have a life devoid of death being around every corner, what happens? I get turned into a blood-sucking monster! Stuck in this small, stone cage of a room, being fed through goblets and blood bags! I was just thinking it couldn't get worse, then you have the nerve to barge in here and ask me how I'm adjusting? Let me tell you, Snape, it's going pretty fucking poorly.

"My friends will hate me when they find out what I am, I'll be shunned from the world and any chance I had of having a life is completely over. To sum up, it's hard as hell to talk with fangs in your mouth, I may be full but you're starting to look more appetizing as the time goes by, and I'm fucking dead!" Potter, fangs out and eyes flashing in the light from the doorway, had moved to a crouched position sometime during his rant. He was breathing hard, looking like he wanted nothing more than to attack Snape. "Does that answer your question, you slimy bastard?"

Snape stared at the teen, lit only by the few feet of light shining from the open door, still managing to look as if shrouded completely in darkness. His skin was a pale pallor, glowing slightly in the fabricated light of the dungeon. For once, he looked the part of the broken hero. If he hadn't known his true age, Snape would have thought him to be much older. His eyes alone spoke of a long and painful life lived.

_Is this really the same proud, arrogant Potter I gave everything to see live through his school years?_ Snape thought, his thoughts not quite matching up with Potter's actions. It wasn't the first time this had occurred, in fact it was a regular argument his mind had with itself. _Who is this boy? Really?_

If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought Potter was going round the bend. He knew better, though.

Which is why Potter's outburst was anything but welcomed by the Potions Professor. After all he had done for him when he was a child, Potter had no room to talk when it came to his life being crap.

He should live Snape's life for a few minutes, see how he would prefer it. He would be begging for immortality in an instant.

Sighing, the older man deadpanned, "Are you done?" Snape was only willing to take so much of the teen's tirade.

All at once the steam seemed to just seep from Potter. He leaned his back on the wall, looking ashamed of his outburst. He sat there, picked up his pillow on the bed and put it in his lap, curling his arms around it and focusing only on the inanimate object. When he spoke next, Snape was glad to see the fangs had again retreated to his normal canines.

"Yeah, I'm done." He picked at the pillow for a moment before looking up, sheepishly, at Snape. "Sorry about that. Even as a… I kinda explode sometimes."

Snape nodded, having been told, as well as witnessed a few, of Potter's infamous tantrums. "Perfectly understandable. I'll tolerate it for now, but just know, there is always a point where I am morally, even as your teacher, allowed to hex you for swearing and ranting in my general direction. I am not one of your little friends, Potter. As such, I am under no obligation to allow you to take your anger out on me." He watched as Potter cringed, guilt flooding his face at the reminder. "You would do well to remember that."

The boy nodded, "I know, Snape. Believe me, I know."

"Professor." It was a reflex to correct the snotty Gryffindor on proper use of titles. He never did use them, disrespectful student that he was. _Unless he was talking to Minerva, of course. Then it's all "Professor this" and "Headmistress that."_

Potter began to laugh rather uncontrollably. Snape couldn't help but wonder if Pomfrey had neglected to perform that mental health examination that he had suggested the night previously.

"Anything you find amusing, Potter?" The chair he was sitting in was beginning to become rather uncomfortable. He may have hated them for their ostentatious appearance, but he would have killed for one of Albus' cushy chairs he used to conjure.

He cringed inwardly at his word usage.

Between fits of laughter, Potter managed to spit out some form of coherent response. "I just," inhale, "it's been so long since," gasped for breath a few times, "we've just fought like this." At this point he wiped away the red tears that had formed in his eyes from laughing. "Me snapping out angrily, you coming back with a dry response. It's just refreshing, I guess. It's almost like… like things are still normal."

Snape cringed inwardly again. Nothing for the being sitting in front of him, wiping away tears of blood with the sleeve of his nightshirt, would ever be normal again. At least not the definition of normalcy he had originally become used to.

"Harry Potter's life? Normal? Somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming." The deadpan delivery was spot on and had Potter in fits of laughter again. Snape couldn't remember a time when he had ever before made the teen laugh. Now he had not only managed it the once, but a second time. Somehow, instead of being horrified that Potter was doing anything other than cowering and glowering in his presence, Snape felt sort of… calmed. Laughter had been missing from his life for so long, it was refreshing for it to finally return to him.

However odd the package it was wrapped in happened to be.

Potter's laughter trailed off to chuckling. "Wow, Snape. Never thought you'd be funny. Angry and scowling, yes, but funny? Nope." Potter chuckled again, tossing the pillow back to its normal place on the bed and, there was no other suitable word for it, flopping down onto it, head on the pillow, his newly grown hair splayed around his head like a black halo, feet about reaching past the edge of the small mattress.

_Will the mood swings never end?_ Potter's moods changed more rapidly and with less notice than the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers at Hogwarts.

"Potter, I find myself needing to inquire, were your moods always this unpredictable before or is their increasing irregularity a more recent development?"

The vampire sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "Ya know what, Snape? It's a little bit of both, I think. At least since fifth year. After the whole 'witnessing the murder of a schoolmate' thing, there was no telling when, or at whom, my anger would blow. Ron and Hermione lovingly refer to it as the year of 'Harry angst.' I can't say I don't agree with them." Potter's face fell. "They're gonna hate me when they find out."

Snape didn't even pretend to not understand exactly what he meant by that. "Not that I presume to know or even _want_ to understand the inner workings of the Golden Trio, but I highly doubt they will. What with all of that 'friends until the end' nonsense you three always spout. Besides, who says they have to find out?" As Snape had meant it to, that got Potter's attention. He turned and propped himself up on his right arm, head in his hand, elbow on his pillow.

"I do. Other than the fact that they made me swear after my waltzing into the forest to die during the war that I wouldn't keep anything from them ever again, Hermione is bound to figure it out eventually. Even Ron isn't oblivious enough to not at least notice something is different about me." Snape held in a snicker at the veiled insult to the youngest male Weasley. "Why do _you_ say they don't have to find out, Sna- Professor?" Potter caught himself and switched the word, but Snape noticed the slip. More importantly, he noticed the correction.

"There are a few things that have happened while you've been sleeping. Namely, I began going through with plans the faculty agreed upon during the meeting that was held last night."

"The meeting that was as obviously about me as the fact that Hanley must be wearing dentures and a wig?"

Before he could stop it from happening, Snape let out a sudden bark of laughter at the blatant jab at Hanley. _It seems they aren't as chummy as I thought they were._

Potter's eyes bulged. "So you _can_ laugh! Ha! Ron owes me ten Galleons!"

Snape glared at the triumphant teen, smirking at his inner alliteration. "Speak of this to anyone and you will find yourself as a toad for the rest of your time at Hogwarts."

Potter just laughed, smiling slightly. "Yeah, whatever you say, Snape.

"Please, I insist, test me to see if I am lying." His hand twitched to his wand pocket, where he knew Potter knew it was currently located.

Potter continued to smile slightly as he most graciously returned the subject back to its originally intended track, pushing himself back into the sitting position he had earlier given up. "I would, but then I wouldn't find out what happened at the meeting about my fate that I was, yet again, left out of." Something flashed in his eyes, a tiny hint at the anger he was holding in. Snape merely hoped it would stay held in. He needed another one of Potter's mood swings like he needed a hole in the head.

"Yes, Potter, you _were_ left out. Would you have preferred we brought you and allowed your Professors to gawk and awe at you when we informed them of what you were?" Potter's face, if possible, blanched slightly. "That is what I figured your response would be. At the meeting, however, the decision was made for you to continue to reside in the castle until the school year is concluded."

Potter's eyes widened. "You mean, I can stay? Here? I can stay hom- at the castle? Even though I'm a blood-sucking, possible danger to the school, could kill at any moment, monster? No one was okay with me staying here when they thought I was a nutcase, how do you think they'll react when they find out that nutcase is now a vampire and wandering around the school?" Potter's fears were not unfounded as it had turned out.

Snape was still uncertain as to his opinion on the conversation he had had on the way back to his office after lunch earlier that day with Filius, Pomona and Minerva. At some point in the day, each of the teachers had come up to him with their own concerns about Potter, usually something trivial, but these three had made their point in a way he couldn't seem to shake.

"I understand what you are saying, Severus, but you are the only one who can look after Mr. Potter," the small wizard squeaked at him, receiving a vigorous nod from Pomona in reply.

"Filius, I understand what _you_ are saying, but I have to disagree," Snape had responded with a sigh and a glare, "Potter and I will wind up killing one another by the end of the week, I'm sure of it. We can not even stand being in the same room as one another for extended periods of time, let alone living in the same quarters for the next several months."

Minerva was shaking her head slowly, chewing her words before she spoke them, and when she did it was with an air of diplomacy and a measured look, "Now, Severus, what Filius is saying, and the rest of the faculty agrees, is that you are the only one on staff experienced enough to handle Potter and his… special needs."

"Exactly! Which is why we feel confident in your keeping Potter in the dungeons where you can keep a close eye on him at all times," Pomona replied, happily.

"After all, he wouldn't dare attack you, Severus. As we all know, he owes you his life, doesn't he?" Filius was speaking out of fear, not for himself but for his Ravenclaws. That knowledge was the only thing that kept Snape from hexing the man then and there.

Pomona agreed with the man, adding in that Potter would be happier in the dungeons, where he couldn't wander the halls at night like he so loved to do before "the incident" as the staff had been referring to Potter's being bitten. "Potter and everyone else will be much safer with him under your watchful eye."

She smiled a giant, fake, smile then she and Flitwick excused themselves, having reached Snape's office, each inventing some task they needed to do.

Snape knew for a fact that Filius didn't need to set up for his next class, being the Charms professor and able to do it in moments, and he was most certainly positive that Pomona had not allowed one of her Venomous Tentacula to ingest any portion of a student, let alone needed to head down after lunch in order to remove said student from the vicious plant.

Minerva looked as if she had just swallowed a lemon as she watched the Professors run away. Her voice was measured when she spoke, holding back from the angry tirade Snape could feel bubbling beneath the surface. "The faculty of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is apparently concerned with how Potter may react with them and the students. More specifically, they are terrified to be in the same room with him now that he is… what he is."

Snape had been shocked to say the least. "So, all it took for the Golden Boy to fall to leper status in their eyes was a pair of fangs?"

Minerva turned to him, her age showing in her face, the lines seeming exaggerated and resembling Albus more at that moment than she ever had before.

"It would seem so, Severus. As much as I know you hate to hear it, it doesn't make it any less true: you're all Harry has. Please, look after him. If not for him, then… for Lily."

It was with Minerva's request in mind, it echoing what Snape had been thinking to himself over the past seven years, that he sat there and spoke with Potter.

After all, saving Harry Potter's life and taking care of him without his knowledge was apparently what Severus Snape did best.

No matter how happy he had once been to be rid of the job, it seemed as if he were destined to be following the prat around for the rest of his life, picking up after him.

He was beginning to feel like a House Elf, only without the job satisfaction.

"Now, the faculty as a whole decided that you are, in fact, to remain a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Really? Letting me stay here is one thing, but letting me in classes? With other students? They really trust me that much still?"

Snape thought back to every teacher on staff at Hogwarts, aside from the Hanley bastard, never outright saying it but implying that they had everything _but_ trust in Potter. Before that talk with Minerva, he would have informed Potter of this. Now? The damned cat's voice ran through his head, "You're all Harry has." _Well, if I am all he has then Potter is royally screwed._

Ever the masterful liar, Snape set his face in a mask of indifference and lied his arse off. "Of course, Potter. You _are_ Harry Potter, Chosen One and Savior of the Wizarding World, after all. Simply becoming a vampire overnight is not enough to sway the faculty as being anything but in awe of you. At least not while Flitwick is still the President of the Hogwarts chapter of the Harry Potter Fan Club."

Snape sneered at the cowardice of the other professors. Potter was his normal self, at least as far as Snape knew. Nothing had changed but his pulse.

Potter chuckled at the thought of Flitwick heading meetings. "And here I thought McGonagall would hold that position."

Snape shook his head, playing along for once. "No, sadly Minerva was out voted by Trelawney. Something to do with her aura not seeming pink enough for the job or some other rubbish." Potter was holding in laughter, Snape could tell. He smirked at the Gryffindor, "The identity of your Fan Club officers aside, as of Monday you are to return to your normal class schedule."

Potter was dubious to say the least. "Not that it doesn't sound appealing, but how exactly am I supposed to do that? Last time I checked, Hogwarts didn't offer night classes. Just Astronomy, and I had more than enough of that when I took my OWL for it." Potter pushed his hair out of his face. Snape really needed to get this conversation over with so he could get what he came for, then ask his eternal annoyance why and how that makeover came about.

"You _will_ be going to your classes as scheduled, as well as any detentions that you are bound to wind up with. Essentially, you are to go about your day as a regular human being, and shall remain doing so until the faculty deems it necessary for the student populous to know what you are, and believe me, Potter, until we tell them, they will not know."

Potter scoffed. "Yeah, well it'll be pretty obvious once I walk into the Great Hall for breakfast and burst into flames, won't it?"

Snape was doing rather a lot of sighing in the past few days. "It won't. Because that will not be happening." Potter looked at him, a look of mingled shock and disbelief, with a tiny dash of what could only be called hope, on his face. "The faculty voted, and they agreed to allow me to… solve the issue of daylight for you. I am in the process of brewing a potion that will allow you to be in the sunlight for a certain amount of time during the day, just enough for you to be in your classes and not, as you put it, burst into flames."

Potter's eyes glistened. He looked skeptical, and was slowly but surely digesting the information he was being given. "Hold on, this makes no sense. First, why would you wanna help me? Second, how _can_ you help me? I may not be as informed as I should be in the ways and world of vampires, but I thought there wasn't a way to-" comprehension dawned on Potter's face and he glared at Snape. "It's a Dark potion, isn't it?"

Despite his previous opinions, Snape was impressed. "Well, Potter, you caught on far faster than your Professors did. It is a potion out of a book from the Malfoy family library, yes, but only because it allows a vampire to go out into the sun. Hypothetically creating more hours in the day in which to feast. Other than that, it has no inherently evil properties to it. Neither does the other, stronger version I shall be brewing after this one is completed."

Potter shook his head slightly. "I don't know about this, Snape. Drinking blood and seeing in the dark is one thing, but this? I've only been a vampire for two days and I'm already expected to be condoning the use of dark magic. Things sure change pretty quickly, don't they?"

"In the blink of an eye." Honestly, he couldn't understand the teen's trepidation with the whole affair. He was being given back the sun, the one thing vampires would quite literally kill for, so why would he even for a second deny it?

Potter seemed to honestly think about it all for a moment. He picked his pillow back up, possibly just to give his hands something to do, and began sort of absentmindedly kneading it. He was eyeing the now empty- as well as shredded- plastic package that had held his breakfast. Snape couldn't begin to imagine what was going through Potter's head at that point.

Though, mostly he just assumed he was either weighing the pros and cons of being around others again, namely the consuming blood in front of them, or he was merely hungry again.

_It had better be the former, for that glutton of a vampire isn't getting any more any time soon,_ Snape thought, wondering whether or not it would be worth trying to repair said blood bag for later use.

Finally, Potter nodded resolutely, having made up his mind. "Alright, Snape. I'll go along with it."

Snape inclined his head slightly, "Good. Now, we can get down to business. Namely why I came in here to begin with."

Potter groaned, slamming the pillow into the mattress, his right hand gripped a tad too tightly to it, his nails ripping the pillowcase slightly. "I knew it! There's always something else. What is it this time? More feigned remedial potions classes? Not being allowed around knives in Potions? Having to be shadowed during classes to make sure I don't eat any of my classmates? Merlin, you're not going to keep my wand away from me still, are you?" Snape rolled his eyes at the many woes of Harry Potter, though had to admit that reinstating the "Remedial Potions" lessons may be the best way to go about covering this all up…

"No, Potter, you will be given your wand back. Since it is rather obvious you still have the ability to perform magic, your new hairstyle enough evidence of that, I am certain it is safe for it to be returned to you. No, I came in here to collect an ingredient necessary for the potion you will be taking, if I stay on schedule, tomorrow morning."

Potter looked confused. Confusion was one emotion that Snape was never tired of seeing on that stubborn, prideful mug of Potter's. "'Collect an ingredient'? What, do you need some of my hair or something?"

Snape pursed his lips, already growing tired of the vampire, Minerva or no Minerva. "Or something. The potion calls for a sample of the saliva of the vampire on which it is to be used." He reached into his cloak and pulled out an empty vial, oblivious to Potter's reaction. "So, if you could simply salivate into this, I can be on my way and we can each get back to what it was we were doing before this interlude."

He held out the empty glass vial and Potter just stared at it like it was a muggle bomb. "You want… my saliva?" Potter gulped, and it was Snape's turn for confusion.

"Yes, Potter. As you should know by now, Vampire Saliva has magical properties beyond merely keeping vampires from experiencing dry mouth." Snape stopped a moment to fully appreciate the confused look on Potter's face. The teen had no idea what the _bloody hell_ he was. He sighed, "I would suggest the first thing you do upon taking this potion be visiting the library, Potter. Now, Vampire Saliva is used much like Phoenix Tears, only there is far more of an abundance of Vampire Saliva and it cannot heal as many things as wholly as Phoenix Tears can. For the purposes of now, just know it has healing properties that lend itself to aiding the Vampire when feeding upon a human."

Potter took this information in, still looking stunned and a dash more terrified by the vial now. "So… you want my magical healing saliva?"

Snape sighed. Yet again. "I do believe I stated that before, did I not? Now, just do it so I can get this blasted potion finished quickly." Snape was feeling testy. The idiot didn't even understand the small words anymore, it seemed.

"No."

Snape blinked. "Excuse me? What was that, Potter?" His trademarked glare had returned, pointed at Potter once more.

"No. I said 'no,' I'm not giving you anything. No way in hell am I risking that, sun or no sun." Snape had no idea what Potter was talking about.

"Risking what? I assure you, it will only be used in the potion, nothing more-"

"Yeah, but if anyone finds out, you'll only get three months in Azkaban. _I'm_ the one with the death sentence, Snape, and I'm not risking it!" Potter was overreacting rather extremely. It was only a little bit of spit, for Merlin's sake, it wasn't like he was asking him to go bite and drain someone of their blood first!

"Potter, you are making even less sense than usual. What makes you think salivating in this potions vial will end in my incarceration and your eventual demise?"

Potter gawked at him, and instead of answering, hopped up from the bed, reaching Snape's chair in only a single step in the small room. Snape prepared for some sort of attack but instead Potter's gaze locked with his own as he moved closer to Snape, keeping eye contact with the Professor, and knelt down in front of him. Thousands of reasons for Potter's doing this flitted through his head, most of which were unwanted and most definitely _never_ to be admitted to. To anyone. _Ever._

Potter, to Snape's confusion, broke the eye contact, got fully on his hands and knees, and began scooping up all of the shredded purple bits that were scattered about that part of the room. _Well, it seems I'll be getting an answer as to what those are sometime soon, _Snape thought, intrigued despite himself.

Potter handed Snape the pile of them. "I think I got all of the pieces." Snape looked at the pile of paper, then looked up at Potter and raised an eyebrow. Potter sighed in frustration, "You need to put it back together. I can't. No wand, remember?" With that he huffed, stood, and sat at the foot of his bed, his profile to Snape, face toward the open doorway.

Snape took out his wand, pointed it at the small, purple pile, and silently cast a _Reparo_. The pieces all arranged themselves and stitched back together to form a Ministry Pamphlet. Casting a quick lumos so he could actually read it, wondering for a moment how Potter had managed the feat in the darkness before him, Snape read the title and snorted. _Only the Ministry…_

He searched through the pamphlet, becoming more and more befuddled.

Befuddled was something Severus Snape never wanted to be able to describe him.

_Damned Ministry, still doing everything in its power to make my life difficult, it would seem,_ Snape's thoughts growled.

His anger must have shown, for Potter, still staring at the doorway, let out a snort. "See what I mean? Stupid bastards." Snape let the curse slide, however, for it was exactly what he was thinking at that moment.

Potter's hands became very interesting to him, it would seem, for he did not seem to be able to take his eyes off of them. Snape could not blame him for once. It reminded him far too much of what the Ministry had attempted to do to him after the war, mainly their having refused to accept his reasons for his actions until Potter stepped in.

"This makes no sense, even by the Ministry's abysmal standards. The imbeciles they had working there… Who in their right mind would pass these sorry excuses for laws?" Snape flipped the pamphlet to the back and searched, knowing his question would be answered and soon. Finally finding what he was looking for, at the bottom, written in minute, cursive, lettering, were the words he was searching for. He read them, stopped, backtracked and read them again, just to assure himself he hadn't read it incorrectly.

_Well,_ he thought with a grimace, _that would explain it._

"What'd you find?" Potter was becoming impatient, still staring at his hands.

Grimace still in place, Snape looked up and read aloud the words on the back of the pamphlet, "All laws and subsequent sentencing brought to light by the Ministry Official, _Dolores. Jane. Umbridge_." Each of the last three words were spoken as their own sentence.

Snape had to admit that his loathing of Umbridge was most likely only rivaled by the being in front of him. No, the "magical creature" in front of him, according to the Ministry. He felt an odd anger welling up inside of him at this, at the pink monstrosity having single-handedly demoted an entire species to nothing more than _animals._

Potter's head snapped toward him at the name, fire burning behind the emeralds. "That- that BITCH is responsible for this?" Again, Snape had to agree.

"Watch your language, Potter," Snape snapped, still a Hogwarts Professor and not able to let that one pass him by.

Potter began flexing his right hand, running his left over the back of it. Snape had seen the scars there, having been made aware after the fact as to their origin. Umbridge's level of sadism was rivaled only by those bearing the last names of Lestrange, Greyback and Riddle.

Though, only she and Riddle had ever managed to permanently scar The Boy Who Lived. Hence why Snape loathed her so much.

Anyone _that_ overjoyed with torturing a fifteen-year-old was rated as less than dirt in Snape's eyes.

About on par with his father.

"It would seem so, Potter. I was under the impression that you had convinced the Ministry to reverse any and all laws she had put into place upon sacking her. Is that not correct?"

Potter's jaw flexed, Snape able to hear his teeth grinding together from his spot a few feet away. The jarring sound echoed on the walls, sounding as if he was crunching the very stone itself between his teeth.

"I did. It seems the Ministry allowed a few to seep through the cracks." He growled in synch with Snape's thoughts.

"Typical." It was a small, everyday word, but what made it supremely odd was that it was spoken in unison between the Potions Master and the Vampire.

Snape recovered from the shock of their having had a shared thought more quickly than Potter. After all, keeping Potter alive and in one piece was always the first and foremost to his thoughts, it being pure reflex by now.

"Well, Umbridge and her idiotic laws seem to have caused a snag in our plans." _I should probably call a meeting and get Minerva's permission before risking Potter's life. _Snape thought. _Then again… the laws clearly state that Hogwarts is allowed to govern itself in matters pertaining to its students. Until Hogwarts deems it necessary to register him as becoming a vampire, he is entirely under the laws and regulations of the school. Not the Ministry._

"Potter." Snape glared the vampire down, who looked like he may have read his Professor's mind. "I never thought I would see the day when I would ask this, and of a Potter no less, but how about we decide to… ignore this particular law? As a final send off for Umbridge's rules governing this school? Minerva will never hear of it, no one can prove it happened unless one of us speaks of it, and it shall be a… secret." That word was oddly difficult for Snape to choke out at Potter. "Just between us."

_What alternate universe have I stumbled into?_ Snape was certain he had gone insane. This was not something Severus Snape, feared Potions Master and reformed Death Eater, would say.

And yet… he said it. It was out there. Never to be returned.

Smirking in a fashion that Snape thought no Gryffindor should ever be allowed to do, Slytherins having cornered that particular market long ago, Potter nodded. "Deal. After all, when have I ever been one to listen to the law, right, Snape? 'Determined rule-breaker,' isn't that what you would always call me?"

Snape snorted derisively, knowing full well Potter was correct. Also slightly excited at the prospect of defying the law once more. He refused to admit it to himself but he did quite have a thing for breaking rules. Just not in the sense that Potter did.

He preferred for his rule breaking to result in those who had wronged him being punished, humiliated, or dead.

He never claimed to be a _kind_ man.

With a nod, Snape leaned and picked the potions vial up from where it had dropped, unnoticed, earlier on the floor. He then handed it to Potter, raising an eyebrow at the teen. "Take it."

A surreal, déjà vu, moment occurred then. The last time he said those words to Potter he was lying, dying, on the dirty floor of the Shrieking Shack.

Hesitating only slightly, seeming to remember the same thing he was, Potter took the vial. He raised it as if toasting, "To defying Umbridge, the Toad, and playing at being normal yet again," then spit into the vial, stoppered it, then handed it back to Snape.

"To defying the Toad," Snape echoed quietly, shaking his head slightly at the Gryffindor's act of rebellion that only he was there to witness. He then stood to leave, his stony, Professor mask back in place, hand on the doorknob, pulling the door shut behind him, the potions vial clutched in his open hand.

"Hey, Snape?"

Snape turned. The door was shut just enough so that Potter was hidden in the darkness of the room. "Yes, Potter?"

He heard him hesitate for a moment before answering. "Um… thank you. For talking with me and everything."

Snape was stunned, frozen to the spot. He snarled, "Potter, I merely came in to acquire something, not to socialize or-"

"Oh, I know that," Potter quickly cut him off, "I just, ya know, I've been stuck in this room, by myself, for two days, _alone_. Then you came in and you talked with me and you listened. Even my ranting. You didn't _mean to_, I know, but still… thanks for just talking."

Snape hesitated as well, not quite certain what to answer. In all honesty, talking with Potter wasn't the little slice of Hell he had imagined it would be. At least they hadn't dissolved into just screaming at one another as they usually would have. _Who knows, maybe the new, vampire Potter will prove to be more manageable, _Snape thought.

"Yes, well, it was not completely terrible, conversing with you, Potter. If you are in dire need of assistance, say you awake to suddenly find you are missing a limb or something similar, then I shall be in my quarters. Someone had better be dying, though, if you wake me in the middle of the night, Potter. Be warned."

With that, he closed the door, ignoring the bolt lock, and walked back into his workroom, three steps away from finishing the potion.

* * *

><p>Back in that small, cramped, dark room, Potter was smiling.<p>

_It was hidden in a threat and cast aside, but Snape just said he'd be there if I needed him, _Harry thought_,_ grinning in the darkness.

_Maybe being a vampire was just the change in my life I needed._

* * *

><p>Back in his Potions workroom, Snape was having a similar thought. Only, it was more along the lines of how nothing in his life ever seemed to change.<p>

Or at least, never truly change.

It always came back to a Potter. Though now… it was in a way that Snape wasn't quite certain how to handle.

He poured Harry "The Vampire" Potter's saliva into the cauldron. He stirred it seven times clockwise, seven counter. The potion turned a deep, crimson red.

Scoffing, Snape left it to simmer for three hours, the only step left.

Snape accepted a fact that night.

_Nothing ever changes._

His life was an unfortunate cycle that began when he was 21.

For everything came back to Potter.

Even Snape's dreams that night.

* * *

><p>AN: Aaaaand we're back! :D<p>

So, how did everyone like this one?  
>I know, Snape seems OOC, but bare with me here. Haha. There's reasons, some of which I've stated and explored and will continue to work with to explain why he's written the way he is.<p>

Mainly, if you liked the chapter, please leave me a review. :D

I do appreciate them ever so much and they're why chapters occur! :D  
>Nothing like leaving me reviews to guilt me into writing another chapter sooner. Guilt works, my friends!<p>

I do hope you all enjoyed this. Be sure to let me know what you like, what you don't, what you love, what you don't lo- ya know what, I may not want to know that one… haha.

I hope you are all doing well, my wonderful readers.

With all the love a fanfic author can give,

ForeverJynxed


	7. A Necessary Interlude

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own or even claim to EVER own anything related to Harry Potter or its affiliates. It all belongs to Jo Rowling and the rights are still the sole property of WB and Scholastic and whatever other companies are in charge of distributing HP books, movies and whatnot. I am only a simple fangirl who had an idea and felt the need to write it down and share it with other fangirls who are of similarly-minded types.**

**Oh,** and, in case that one didn't get the gist across: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING! Only the laptop on which this was written and a slight case of insomnia. XD

**AN: **I… I can't even begin to explain how just… I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry.

There is honestly no reason this should have taken this long.

But, since last we met with this fic (and even my other one) I have literally gone from doing one show straight into another. School has been crazy, my life has been changing (I'm currently toward the end of a run for a show, while rehearsing another show that opens in two weeks, while awaiting rehearsals to begin for another show that I'll be teching instead of acting in… yep.)

I can give you excuses into next week for why this took so long, but instead I am going to start making some assurances instead.

**First: my fics have NOT BEEN ABANDONED. They're just on a severely slow schedule. XD**

**Second: I WILL finish these! I have a good portion of both fics written, it's just the middly-bits that are taking forever.**

I will try and update as often as I possibly can. For those of you who have been awaiting this update for years, I apologize and assure you that I have not forgotten about you.

For the newbies, thank you for gracing my fic with your eyes and your imaginations. I hope it becomes everything you hoped it would be.

Now, this chapter is not a chapter, per se. But more what I had written of the next chapter that I just couldn't get past so I am posting it so you all know I am still alive.

It is short, but the next chapter shall more than make up for it in length and actual substance. XD I swear upon my hazelnut frappuccino (half finished sitting next to me) that it shall be!

With no furthur ado, you have all been waiting long enough,

Yours truly,

ForeverJynxed

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7: A Necessary Interlude<span>

The faculty was beginning to unnerve Severus Snape.

Not in the usual, "How do they manage to stay that happy with all of the time they spend around the snot-nosed little brats?" kind of way, but in a, "What crawled up their arses and turned them all _into _snot-nosed little brats?" kind of way.

Now, Severus Snape was not in any way an optimist, could never in his life have been described that way, yet even he was not pessimistic enough to ever, even for a moment, entertain the thought that everyone would suddenly just… turn on Potter.

It started with the unexpected requests for Severus to be the only one around the Potter brat. Professors, all at different points of the days, had been flocking to Snape to ensure he was keeping a close eye on Potter. "Just making sure everyone involved is safe and sound," and, "Wouldn't want anything unwanted happening, now would we?" were sentences he had heard more times in the past week than he had in his entire life.

Certainly it was odd for them all to have changed their tunes so swiftly, even the fact that they had done it apparently all at once, and that on its own would have been enough to raise a red flag for Severus. Unfortunately, it was not just that that scraped and gnawed at Severus' mind.

It was the look in their eyes when they would so much as speak of Potter. A look of almost fear, a fear he had never imagined could be associated with Potter.

These people fought for him, alongside him, and in honor of him. They were the bravest and, even Snape had to admit- if begrudgingly- some of the greatest witches and wizards in their fields. There was no logical explanation for why people who fit those descriptions would inexplicably turn tail and run if anyone even uttered the name of "Potter," as if he was the last person they wanted within twenty feet of them.

That first meeting, they had all done everything in their power to keep the moron in the school, and now they are all but sharpening their torches and pitchforks.

Now, Snape was back at yet another Sunday staff meeting, this one feeling more like a funeral than a meeting.

There was no witty repartee, no lighthearted snapping at one another. There was just business. The group sat there, everyone but Snape and McGonagall sipping tea, avoiding eye contact with one another.

It was the meeting Snape had been waiting his entire career for, a room full of complacent, QUIET, staff members, but instead he was only wishing things would go back to normal.

Or as normal as things got in the castle.

Even worse, every member of the staff (aside from Hagrid‒ who was always left out for customary reasons of his large mouth, in Snape's opinion, his busy schedule in everyone else's) was present. Even Hanley.

That plastic-faced asshole was the only one present who seemed unaffected by the tense air in the room. He sat there, perfect hair practically gleaming in the sunlight coming in through the window, leaning back in his chair, looking perfectly serene.

Snape wanted to sock him.

"Tea, Severus?" Hanley spoke over Minerva going on about something or other to do with the Care of Magical Creatures class and a niffler, apparently it unearthed an old relic and the students were wondering what to do with it.

"No, thank you, _Hanley_." Severus stressed the use of the last name, resisting the urge to tell him to call him Professor, "I would rather listen to Minerva's riveting tale of treasure finding Nifflers."

He hoped Minerva did not take that as an insult, but as an obvious misdirection. Hanley huffed, smile still shellacked onto his face, and conceded with a small nod, "My apologies, Headmistress, how rude of me. Please, continue."

After skirting the issue for over an hour, Snape decided it was time to broach the subject of Potter. Mainly the fact that his final test of the potion had proved successful, which meant he was ready to test the potion on Potter.

Every time, each Professor in turn averted their eyes as well as the subject the moment Snape brought it up in a roundabout fashion, then changed it back to something more frivolous.

The only constant was the clinking of tea cups on saucers. This was something Hanley had insisted on instating that year. He gave some excuse about it relaxing everyone, Snape knew it was just to annoy the crap out of him. The clinking and clanking of tea cups never soothed Severus. Call him a terrible Englishman, but too many times had he had a horrible conversation that Albus had forced him to have, punctuated by the sound of sipping and that. Damned. Clinking!

Finally, Snape just trudged forward, not giving them the option of avoiding it.

"I have finally finished my preparations and testing of the potion I have been working on." Not a one of them needed to ask which of which potion he spoke.

"Ah- ah, uh-hem, have you now?" Flitwick was uncharacteristically uneasy, practically falling off of the book was sitting on in his chair.

_This is the man who dueled and defeated some of the most skilled wizards in history? _Snape huffed,_ The man probably could not hit the broad side of a dragon without fainting._

Something was rotten in little Hogwarts.

"Yes, I have. As it was agreed in this very room, by each and every one of you, that Harry Potter be allowed to resume his tutelage at this school with the assistance of a potion that I was tasked with brewing, I must inform you all that I have finished it. The real potion takes at least another month to brew, but this alternate version shall suffice more than well enough to integrate him back into society. This is something I think is a necessary topic for discussion, don't you?"

The room at large tutted and squirmed with their new knowledge, as well as the reminder of their agreement in the matter, none coming up with a response.

All but Hanley, that was, who was merely thinking.

Snape hoped he hurt himself thinking that hard, he really did.

"Severus brings up an interesting point, everyone." Hanley sighed, looking grim. Snape prepared himself for the other shoe to drop, "You all, apparently, agreed to this drastic course of action for a fallen hero, but I, however, did not."

He was definitely going to punch him. "That was because you were not at the meeting, Hanley. Not every decision made at this school requires the attendance of every Professor, not the least of which being the Defense Professor, what with them never being around long enough to make educated decisions with regards to the school. They tend to have a habit of disappearing or simply never returning. That or dying… Particularly when trying to harm or stop, well, Potter." His eyes glowed with malice.

Snape was proud of himself, he managed to not yell or harm Hanley.

Part of him hated that.

Another part treasured the threat he left hanging in the air.

"As much as I appreciate your obvious care for the school and for your students, you fail, as always, _Severus_," Hanley practically hissed his name, "to understand that decisions based on the allocation of dangerous, dark magical creatures falls to the Defense Professor, as I am the one who is, by nature of my job, more qualified to make those types of decisions."

Not a single person in that room so much as inhaled for several seconds, every eye on either Snape or Hanley, awaiting a fight.

None came, though.

Minerva cleared her throat, reminding the room at large that she was in charge and they could all go jump off of the Astronomy Tower as far as she was concerned.

"Boys, if you would kindly quit your schoolyard rivalry for a moment, we have more pressing matters to discuss." Hanley was not in the least bit cowed, and instead busied himself with refilling everyone's tea as Minerva spoke. "No matter your opinion on the subject, the one who makes the decisions around here is the Headmaster or Headmistress. I am the only one with the authority to expel students, and many of you require a refresher course on your actual job titles and responsibilities. We are here for the children, and to offer a fair and equal education to any and all magical children who come through the castle doors. Now, Harry Potter is one of those magical children. He has given more than could ever have been asked of him in order to ensure that others would have the same equal opportunity for education and life as he had growing up. We are not about to abandon him in his time of need, and I for one say that I am perfectly happy with Severus conducting his experiments and Harry may return to his classes as early as next week."

"So, when shall we be informing the students one of their classmates is a vampire?" The Professors twitched at Hanley's use of the word.

"We will not, Hanley." Snape smirked at Minerva's use of his last name, "As is the custom and right of Hogwarts school, the students are only to know at the time of Harry's leaving the school or if for any reason it becomes pertinent information to them."

"Ah, why certainly, why didn't I think of that. What could possibly make the plan to assimilate a vampire into a group of unsuspecting, unarmed children better than to ensure they have no idea we're doing it and therefore will be completely unprepared to fight back."

This caused an uproar throughout the room, only ending with Snape sending sparks throughout the room by accident from the level of his fury and his wand having appeared in his hand at some point during Hanley's speech.

The sparks were singeing the back of Pomona's chair, but she didn't notice.

Hanley glared at him. "Oh, come on, Snape. You can't expect me to believe that this, what, 'miracle cure' is supposed to work? I know Harry was a man of strong morals, but even the kindest of dogs will bite the hand that feeds them if given the right trigger." Severus convinced himself he was imagining the glint in the man's eyes as he took in the effect his words were having on the rest of the table. "How exactly is your little potion supposed to help?"

It took every ounce of willpower Severus had to not leap across the table and show Hanley precisely what had made him such a good Death Eater.

"The potion negates the effects of sunlight and daylight on a vampire. It will also cause Potter to not require as much blood to survive, as he will no longer be fighting the sun itself and therefore will be under less physical stress." Snape hoped they believed the lie about the lessened need for blood, for he had no idea what it would do to Potter in that department. He only knew he would not let them see it if it backfired on them. "Potter will become essentially a normal student, or as normal as Potter could ever get. He is docile, only ever any sort of a problem if he is severely provoked and even then he has more will power than any other vampire I have ever seen. This _will _work. Potter will be safe, provided all of you ensure his transition goes as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, you will be going back on your word, which we all know the consequences of that are severe here. We take our students' safety seriously, Hanley, breathe one word of Potter to the students or give him a hard time, provoke him in any way, and you will be happy to get a job cleaning up dragon dung in Romania by the time we are through with you."

His and Hanley's stares were hard, full of everything they were not saying, before Hanley threw back his head and laughed. "Man, Severus, you really have a knack for the dramatics. I didn't mean to make this such a big deal, I just wanted to make sure every possibility was thought of. More power to Harry, I hope things go well for him. Merlin knows I would never have the nerve to do something like this if I were in his position. I look forward to his return to normal society."

Things in the meeting went back to normal after that. Hanley was schmoozing, Minerva was in charge, the Professors were more relaxed.

Severus, not for the first time, wondered about what might have happened between the Fanged Wonder and Captain Smiley the other day. Something in the dynamics must have changed.

Snape smelled a rat, but decided to keep his mouth shut… for then.

* * *

><p>Harry's hair had grown six more inches. Each time he slept, he would awake to find another inch or two added to his already long hair. It now came down to about his elbows and was beginning to annoy the living crap out of him.<p>

Even worse, Snape had noticed. The last time he came to bring him a meal (his breakfast before Snape went to go and grade papers until it was lunchtime for the vampire), Snape had sneered at his head, barked out, "Poppy requested I give you this," and thrown something at him, the object perfectly landing next to his hand where he was leaning on his bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He then snarked something vague about Harry being a "slovenly louse" with "Albus hair" and slammed the door behind him.

In the darkness, Harry saw it was a long, leather tie. Needless to say, he decided at that moment that the first thing he would do upon being given his wand back was chop his out of control coif.

It had been just over a week since Harry had come to live in that tiny little room in the dungeons with only a large, wooden door separating him and the outside world, and he was going a tad stir crazy.

He was used to being surrounded by people, some badgering him, others just laughing or speaking with him. After the war, with the survivors and paperwork he had to deal with, people were a regular part of his life. He remembered a time he would have killed for a moment of peace.

Now? He had no human interaction (Pomphrey and her doting over him did not count as interaction and Snape didn't count as human), no light except for the few glimpses he would get when his door was opened, and, the worst of all, he had no wand.

He felt more useless than he had in the tent after his wand had smashed. It was like a part of him was missing, the rest of his arm had been chopped off and left in the other room.

Worse thing of all? He wasn't dreaming.

Oh, he would sleep. Like clockwork, the moment the sun came up he would become extremely tired, then slumber until the sun took its nightly break from lighting up the sky. That entire time, though, was filled with as much darkness as his physical world.

He thought back to two weeks ago, when he would have killed to be able to sleep an entire night with not a dream. No memories, no waking up feeling more exhausted than he had been the night before, just darkness. Black, blank nothingness.

Now? He almost missed his thoughts turning to terror and memory. They may have been unbearable, and what got him into this mess to begin with, but his nightmares were part of what made him, well, him.

He just found it weird that what he went looking for that night was a way to stop the nightmares and just let him sleep. And, boy, did he find it.

_You know what they say, be careful what you wish for-_

_Or you just might get it._ A second, slinking voice finished his thought.

Ah, then there was that.

Even though he was alone in the room, Harry was never nearly as alone as he wished he were.

No matter where he was, he knew, he was not alone. Not anymore. There was always that voice, in his mind. It began as a whisper, but with every passing day it was growing louder and louder.

Harry didn't know what was more disconcerting, that the voice was growing stronger or that he was, well… talking back with it.

Not often, only when the silence and the darkness became a bit too much for him to handle. Also never aloud, he kept it in his mind.

Maybe Snape was right; maybe Harry was losing his mind. His mind was certainly losing him.

He heard the padding of even footsteps outside of his door. _Dinnertime_, he thought with a grimace.

That familiar bite of other life, that small ray of light shone throughout the room, starting as a piercing sliver and gaining life as a tall, dark shadow grew within it.

Even his small glimpses of light were overshadowed by the Dungeon Bat.

"Dinner is served," Snape growled, tossing a bag of blood, Harry's usual container for his dinner, to the vampire in the corner.

He caught it without even thinking, his normal Seeker reflexes intensified by the whole "Being undead" thing.

"Ah, I see you brought out the fine China as usual, Snape," Harry bit off the cap to the bag as he almost felt Snape's eyes rolling, "you do know how to entertain a house guest." He gave his best sarcastic grin then started slurping up his "dinner," making certain to make as much noise as possible as he did so.

He didn't know why, but something told him that was a good moment to be belligerent. He never was one to deny his senses.

"A riot of wit and humor, you are, Potter," Snape walked entirely into the room, leaving the door cracked as usual, just enough light for him to see where he was going.

Harry didn't need the light to see where was Snape was going. He certainly didn't need it to see how uncomfortable the elder man was feeling. He could hear his heartbeat quickening as his thoughts raced, a calm mask over a mind Harry knew was doing far more than he revealed.

"What's wrong?" he asked between slurps of rather delicious, if a little cold, blood. "What happened this time?" There was a small line of blood making its way down his chin. He could feel it. Snape pointedly watched the trail it followed, down his chin, dripped onto his shirt, an ugly blemish on the stark white pajamas.

"Did those relatives of yours ever teach you manners, Potter?" His voice sounded the disgust his face didn't quite manage.

"Nope. They were much more concerned about making sure I didn't wind up a magical freak to care about my eating habits." There was that shit eating grin again, the one he always reserved only for Snape when he would inadvertently hit a nerve.

The Professor looked understandably taken aback. Harry watched as his mind raced, a fight happening in there somewhere.

When a side won, Snape responded to Harry's question. "The potion is completed."

That had him paying more attention. The now empty blood bag lay in Harry's hand, now crumpled in a viselike grip. _The potion is finished_?

_Now we can see people, we would like that, would we not? _Harry pretended he didn't hear the little voice.

"Where is it? When can we start testing it? Are you certain it won't just make me go crazy and murder everyone, because honestly that is just not a possible side effect I am prepared to deal with." It came out in a rush, question after question, until Snape raised a hand.

"It will take another hour or so to portion out, document and whatnot. Each step of this process must be carefully examined and studied. Even so, we could begin testing it tonight."

Harry sat up a little straighter, his eyes glinting with a happiness he didn't want to give in to just yet. "Really? I could see everyone that much sooner-"

"Just a small test, though." Snape cut off his excitement at the pass. "We have a long way to go before any conclusions as per your ability to be around humans may be made."

_He means before you can be trusted to not murder anyone._ The voice was not helping anything.

"My plan is to test your sleeping patterns first. You have noticed you become drowsy at sunrise, correct?"

Harry nodded, sighing at how patronizing that sounded. "Yes, Snape, I am not a complete idiot-"

"Good," he cut off his remark with a smirk, "then precisely one hour before sunup, I shall return here and the testing phases will begin. This all must be extensively documented and analyzed, Potter. If anything, any one little thing, goes… adverse to our expectations, then I must be able to be certain that proper precautions can be taken. This is for everyone's safety, including and… _especially_ your own." _That looked like it hurt to say_, "Do you agree to these terms?"

"Can I get it in writing?" He huffed, falling back onto his pillows. He growled when the ponytail he was sporting got caught beneath him and he had to readjust, lifting his torso off of the bed and flinging his head up, trying unsuccessfully to get his hair to dislodge itself from underneath his back. Instead he only managed to look like a fish out of water, struggling for a breath, flopping about. His cheeks flared with blood he didn't know could move there, a blush of embarrassment and annoyance forming. "Ugh, women make this look so easy!"

Snape chuckled, so quietly Harry almost didn't catch it, but there it was. Snape. Laughing. Again.

"It may take a bit to get used to, Potter." Snape ran his hand through his own long hair, unconscious of the movement, still staring at Harry. "Which brings me to a question I have to ask before we begin testing the potions. Is the hair growth while asleep a new occurrence, or had it happened before your untimely death?"

"Thank you for the reminder, General Tact." He flipped over onto his side, his arm outstretched, hand hanging over the too small bed, head rested in the crook of his shoulder, making a human number 7. He looked into Snape's eyes, perfectly lit by the sidelight of the door. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he figured he would find it eventually. "And no, the hair growing thing is not new. It's been happening for a while and, again, no I have no idea what has been causing it. It just sort of happens while I'm asleep; I don't know what's making it happen. When I know, you will."

The eyes rolled yet again. "Only you would have such a strange use of accidental magic, and at 18 no less." He sighed and stood, his joints audibly cracking as he did so. "As for myself, it is not my job to be tactful, Mr. Potter. It is, however, your job to be truthful."

Harry lifted himself up on his elbow, about to be quite truthful to Snape when he was cut off, yet again.

"What I mean is, when we are testing these potions, you must not leave anything out about what you experience. No small detail can be overlooked less we miss something and risk not just our own lives but the lives of all who reside in the castle." Snape's eyes had gone darker, sterner, and his eyes did that thing Dumbledore's used to do. He was looking through him, not at him. Harry shivered, lying back on the bed, using his arms to hug himself for warmth he knew he was incapable of creating any longer. Warmth he knew he didn't technically need to survive but which he craved all the same.

"Doesn't mean you have to be so, well, _you_ about it." He threw himself into a sitting position, "Yeah, we can start experimenting on me. _Yes,_ I agree to give you full access to what is in my brain and to try not to leave anything out. Now, let me bask in my eternal darkness for a bit longer before you giveth the sun back to the lowly creature." He tried not to lay the sarcasm on too thick, but suspected he hadn't been successful.

Snape nodded curtly then swooped away, closing the door and taking Harry's only sliver of light away from him.

AN: Sooo, yeah. That's it for now.

I know, I usually have these wonderfully long chapters that are almost stories in and of themselves in which, ya know, actual stuff happens, but I just… Yep. I have what the rest of this chapter would be but I just can't get it right and I'm tired of leaving you all waiting for any kind of update so I just went ahead and posted this.

Just to remind you all that I am still, in fact, alive. Also, I am NOT abandoning these fics. Never. I will finish these no matter what it takes, even if you all start to hate them and stop reading. (Which I really, really hope doesn't happen… but I would understand if it does. It has been about two years now… :/ Again, sorry about that.)

With the sincerest hope that it will not take this long ever again before we meet once more,

I hope you are all doing well, my wonderful readers,

With all the love a fanfic author can give,

ForeverJynxed


End file.
